


Patisserie

by becca2793



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bakery AU, M/M, Slow Burn, Somewhat, everyone loves prompto bc why wouldn't they?, gladio and iggy are married and amazing, he's still the precious bae tho, iggy creates food porn, prom is a photographer, prompto is more withdrawn bc of au reasons, surprise surprise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becca2793/pseuds/becca2793
Summary: He’s like business royalty, the exact opposite of Prompto. He’s not exactly jealous, though, even if that means that this dark-haired boy is beyond rich. Prompto is free to do pretty much whatever he wants, barring it costs any money, and it seems like Noctis is stuck in a life he doesn’t want to be in. Everything comes at a cost, though. He thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind being a little trapped if it meant being surrounded by people like this, people who love him.





	1. Sweets

The bakery smells delicious, unsurprisingly. The bakeries he goes to usually do; here, there’s the scent of berries, fresh and potent, and he figures that some kind of masterpiece is currently in the oven. Since the building is small, quaint, the sweet scent hangs heavy in the air, and his mouth waters as he walks towards the cashier. His camera bag is slung over his shoulder, a familiar weight, and he shifts to let it rest on the counter when he arrives - the cashier raises an eyebrow in interest.

She’s small and cute, with dark black hair and crimson eyes. “Can I help you?” She asks, hair fluffing against her cheeks.

“Ah, yeah,” he nods. “I’m here to speak with Ignis Scientia? I’m here with Patisserie, for photographs.”

“Oh!” She perks up, then spins around and jolts to the door separating the kitchen from the lobby. “Gladdy, Iggy!” She calls. “The photographer is here!”

Prompto blinks at the sound of her yelling but straightens and unbuckles his camera case. He pulls out his Nikon, takes the lens cap off, and peers through the viewfinder, then manually adjusts the focus, playing around a little, and shoots up when he hears the door to the kitchen open and close.

He knows which one Ignis is, mainly because he’s seen his photograph - prim, regal, rather unlike most of the patissiers he’s met in the past. He’s always impeccably clean, too. The man next to him must be Gladiolus Amicitia - his husband. Prompto knows that because his boss told him; he can sometimes be bothered to do research, but it’s usually not into the patissiers’ personal lives. But he puts on a bright smile and reaches his hand across the counter, offering it to Mr. Scientia, who takes it. Strong grip. Honestly, he does seem to be pretty ripped underneath the outfit.

“You must be Prompto,” Mr. Scientia says in a thick accent, but there’s little excitement behind his tone. Prompto nods. “Would you like to come see the kitchen?”

That’s pretty standard. People usually like to show off their equipment. They can probably take one look at Prompto and see that he’ll never be able to afford anything like it. Not that he would want to - he can’t cook to save himself.

“Ignis,” comes a new voice, and Prompto looks towards the smooth tenor. The owner is as handsome as his voice. There’s a hand on his hip and a bored look on his face. “How much longer?”

“Patience,” Ignis says, almost chastising. “I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

The newcomer’s eyes land on Prompto. “And you are?” His blue eyes flicker down to the camera. Eyebrows raise. “Oh, the photographer. From the magazine.”

Prompto nods. Evidently this person must be related to Mr. Scientia in some way; he holds out his hand and the other boy eyes it for a moment before shaking it. His palm is very warm, as if he’d been handling something hot. “Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling. “Prompto Argentum.”

“Noctis,” says the boy still holding his hand. But then it slips away. “Lucis Caelum.”

Oh, he recognizes that last name. He can’t remember where it’s from, though. Noctis must be important - that’s not a common name.

Ignis clears his throat. “The kitchen, then,” he says, and Prompto turns to him quickly.

“Y-yes,” he nods, and scurries around the corner. He takes one last glance towards Noctis before disappearing behind the door. The dark-haired boy was looking at him, too.

The kitchen is spotless, not that Prompto is very shocked. Everything is gleaming stainless steel, so clean it reflects shapes off of it’s surface. Prompto can see his hazy shape in the refrigerator, though none of his features. Quietly, he follows the creator of his subject around the room, nodding and asking questions at appropriate times. Before he started this job he didn’t know a thing about baking equipment, but that changes once people start to get offended that you’re not impressed with their rotary ovens. It does no good to piss the patissiers off.

He stops in front of a prep table. The cupcakes smell heavenly, but that’s not why he’s interested. “Do you mind…?” Prompto asks, gesturing to the desserts with his camera.

Mr. Scientia turns, looking from him to the cupcakes. “Not at all,” he says, and he smiles a little now. “By all means.”

The cupcakes are absolutely gorgeous, decorated to an almost scientific perfection. They’re completely symmetrical, but their beauty isn’t lost in it. The cupcakes are a myriad of pastels, pinks, blues, purples, and the icing has been manipulated to look like roses. It’s not fondant - just icing. Little green leaves of icing poke out from various places. The lighting in the room is great, too, so that there are no shadows on the pastries and as he zooms in, changes the focus, he sees tiny sparkles in the icing. They catch the light beautifully.

He snaps a few pictures, then rustles through his bag to switch lenses. He twists on the microlens before leaning close, adjusting the focus once more, and taking another snapshot. When he leans back to survey the display, he grins. He loves his camera. Proudly, he holds the camera out towards Mr. Scientia, so he can take a look. The man steps forward and gently takes it from his hands - he handles the camera carefully, which Prompto more than appreciates, and flips between the two pictures.

“They’re lovely,” he says, nodding.

“Do you mind me asking what the cupcakes are for?” Prompto asks, looking at the pictures himself once more before putting the camera around his neck again.

“A wedding,” Mr. Scientia tells him, and this is when Prompto realizes how silent Mr. Amicitia has been the entire time. He looks over at the large man, but receives nothing but a raised eyebrow in response.

“This is all Iggy,” the man says, voice gruff.

Okay, then. He wouldn’t mind a statement if Mr. Amicitia had one to give, but he supposes he understands in a way. Not like he could do much with it anyway. He follows them again. “What is the article going to be on, precisely?” Mr. Scientia asks after a moment.

“Oh, um,” Prompto starts. “Actually it’s on desserts from Tenebrae, and the editor heard about it being an influence on you.”

Mr. Scientia hums thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose,” he says. “I don’t see how cupcakes would help, then.”

Prompto laughs a little. “No, those are just for me. Or, well, to keep on hand, maybe. I’ll ask for a release on my photos once we’re done, and you can decide which we can have.”

He gets a prim nod in response. “Well, the vol-au-vents have almost risen, and then must cool and be tended to, but it shouldn’t take than another fifteen minutes before they’re completely finished.”

“Alright,” he returns. “Would it be alright for me to talk some pictures of the kitchen, then?”

Mr. Scientia nods. “I have to retrieve the filling for the vol-au-vents from the back, but Gladio will be here if you need anything.”

And then he leaves and it’s just the two of them. It’s immediately awkward. “Um,” he starts. “Your bakery is amazing.” It’s a platitude, and he knows it. Just small talk. “And Mr. Scientia is very talented.”

Mr. Amicitia sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Prompto takes a second to take in the tattoos on his biceps. They’re impressive. Mr. Amicitia looks away for a moment before looking back at Prompto. “Well, we wouldn’t be where we are if it wasn’t for the brat you met earlier.” He sounds a little fond, though. “But like I said, it’s all Iggy here.” He clicks his tongue. “Man wouldn’t ask for help if he was drowning, so I don’t really have much to say. You want something to put in your article, you’d be better off talking to Iris.” He cocks his head back towards the lobby. “The cashier. And my little sister.” He gives Prompto a look, but he doesn’t really have to worry about that. Iris is cute, but...not his type. He likes a more mature woman.

“Well, I’m not a journalist,” Prompto says, chuckling nervously. He rubs the back of his neck. “I mostly take the pictures.”

Mr. Amicitia is a fan of skeptical looks. “Will someone else be coming by for the article, then?”

“Mmm,” he nods and fidgets with the hem of his vest. “Man by the name of Dino Ghiranze. He’s, uh, a character.” A little slimy, but good at what he does. Rumors say he’s getting ready to leave the journalism business, though. Prompto’s heard from a couple of people he wants to get into jewelry. More lucrative, probably.

“Why don’t you just do both?”

Prompto is a little shocked. He doesn’t know why Mr. Amicitia seems interested in him. “I’m just not a writer,” he explains, and gives a self-deprecating little laugh. “Always been better with a lens than a pen.” Better with a lens than _anything_ probably. Not that that’s hard. He’s not good at much else. He was a shit student, and not great at making friends or talking to people, either. He’s a lot better about his shyness now, but growing up he wasn’t the best at interpersonal relationships. At least he’s confident enough to talk with people now, even if he gets a little edgy talking to people he’s never met.

He wishes he was actually good at something other than hiding behind a camera.

“Well,” the big man says, crossing his arms. “Iris’ll probably want to talk your head off anyway. Even if you’re not going to put her in the article.”

Prompto manages a smile. “Sure,” he says, and takes his leave. His hands are shaking a little, but he doesn’t know why. Maybe because he’s never been good at actually talking to girls. Maybe also because he’s not all that great at talking to really _really_ attractive men, either.

He pushes through the door to the lobby to find Iris leaned against the counter, talking with Noctis. Both of them look up when he emerges from the kitchen.

“So?” Iris asks, excitedly. “What did you think?”

“Impressive,” he says, nodding. He clears his throat and gets a handle on himself. “I would be scared to eat anything he made. It’s too pretty.”

“You’re telling me!” She laughs, and opens the display case before pulling out a galette. It’s still early, so it must be a breakfast item, considering the egg in the middle of it. It looks absolutely to die for. “Look at this! It’s perfect! Iggy is the best!”

Noctis chuckles, and Prompto looks up at him. “It tastes even better than it looks, though.” He says.

Iris makes a face. “Honestly,” she says. “Noct has no qualms about just shoving whatever Iggy puts in front of him into his mouth. Never appreciates it’s beauty.”

“Hey!” Noctis says, clearly a little offended. “He designated me taste-tester. It’s like my job.”

“As opposed to your actual job, which you’re always skipping out on to come here,” she teases.

Oh, this is as good a time as any to figure out where he knows the name Lucis Caelum from. “What do you do?” Prompto asks innocently, trying not to sound prying.

Noctis rolls his eyes and looks away. He seems grumpy. “Oh, he’s just the worst,” Iris says, shaking her head. “He works for his dad. They own their own company. Noct is big business. He just avoids it at all cost.”

“That’s not true!” He bites back. “I put in my hours! I do what I have to. It’s just…” He scoffs. “It’s not like I _asked_ for my position, Iris. We’ve talked about this.” His voice is a little strained.

“But it’s not what you want to do?” Prompto asks.

Noctis just blinks at him for a moment before sighing. “It doesn’t matter. It’s what I have to do.”

So, a classic case of family duty. He’s like business royalty, the exact opposite of Prompto. He’s not exactly jealous, though, even if that means that this dark-haired boy is beyond rich. Prompto is free to do pretty much whatever he wants, barring it costs any money, and it seems like Noctis is stuck in a life he doesn’t want to be in. Everything comes at a cost, though. He thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind being a little trapped if it meant being surrounded by people like this, people who love him. So is Noctis lucky, or isn’t he?

It’s none of his business, he guesses.

“So what about you, Prompto?” Iris asks. “Do you like what you do?”

He smiles now, and nods. “Yeah, more than anything. It was always my dream to be a professional photographer, and now I’m here.”

“Do you like photographing desserts, though?” Noctis asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” Prompto returns, and he looks down at his camera. “I mean I like it. It’s not probably what I want to do forever, but I like it for now.”

“What do you want to photograph?” Iris asks, and she’s clearly interested, just like her brother was. Maybe it’s an Amicitia trait, connecting with people.

He shrugs. “What does any photog want their subject to be? Something meaningful. I’d like to catalogue something important, I guess.”

“What do you mean by important?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and he feels a little embarrassed. Being put on the spot isn’t easy. “A journey, maybe? It doesn’t have to be universally important, even though that would be nice, too. But something that means something to people.”

“Like an adventure,” Iris asks. “Or some discovery?”

He nods. “Yeah. I want...to create a story with my photographs.”

The two others are quiet for a moment, and then look at each other. When they look back at him, Iris is smiling and Noctis’s eyes are bright. “Sounds fun,” she says. “We’ve always wanted to take an adventure, haven’t we, Noct? Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Noctis crosses his arms. “Very cool.”

“Yeah,” she nods, and throws her arms behind her back. “All over Lucis in the Regalia, with the top down and the wind in our hair!” She seems really happy. “I’ve always wanted to visit Lestallum.”

“Sounds hot,” Noctis frowns. “How about on the coast?”

“What? Like Galdin Quay? That’s an island getaway, Noct, not an adventure!”

“The fishing is good,” is all he returns with.

Iris rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so boring. An adventure has to be full of fun and...adventure! Maybe even a little danger!”

“Danger?” Noctis asks. “Gladio would blow a gasket if we put you in danger.”

Iris puffs out her bottom lip. “Gladdy would be fine. I need to learn how to protect myself anyway!”

Prompto can’t help but smile. The two are obviously close, and it’s nice to see them interacting. He’s not around friends like this a lot. Although. They could be more than friends? “Are you two…?” he asks.

Iris catches on first and laughs, even though she’s blushing. “What? Noct and I? No way,” she waves a hand in front of her face.

It seems as though Noctis catches on now, too. He grimaces. “Gladio would kill me. Literally.”

Seems excessive, but he did catch a little bit of the ‘protective older brother’ vibes back there. He feels a little weird about having asked that, but he felt he wanted to know for some reason. The two of them make it really easy to forget he hasn’t known them more than a few minutes. They’re fun.

“Besides,” Iris says, and she grins at Noctis. “Noctis already has Luna.”

“Iris,” he groans.

“What?”

“You know what.”

Luna? Luna must be a girlfriend, then. Prompto wonders what she’s like. Is she like the rest of them? She’s probably beautiful, to have the attention of someone as handsome as Noctis. But that’s a little shallow, isn’t it? Prompto likes to think himself above it, but considering how the first thing he notices about people is their appearance probably has something to say about that. It’s just human nature, though, right? It’s the only thing you can judge someone on before speaking with them. So, yeah, everyone in the bakery is unusually attractive, and he tries not to feel too bad for noticing that. They’re also friendly, though, even if Mr. Scientia is a little rigid towards him. So, friendly and good looking. How dangerous.

The door behind him opens and he turns. A sweet smell wafts out of the kitchen and he thinks his knees might go a little weak. “They’re ready,” Mr. Scientia tells them, and Iris rushes past Prompto to get into the kitchen. Noctis moves quick, too, and he follows behind. It’s the scent of berries again, strong like when he first walked into the bakery. There’s also a little bit of...banana maybe? And chocolate. The scent profile is very intense, and maybe a couple of months ago he would have just said it smelled nice, but now he can catch all of the little accents. Maybe he can’t bake, but he knows quite a bit in theory. Theory doesn’t help all that much, though, when he goes home and tries to replicate whatever he saw. He’s usually just happy if it’s edible. Pastries can go _so_ wrong.

Mr. Amicitia is standing by the prep table, arms still crossed, tattoos dark against his skin, and Mr. Scientia walks up beside him. Prompto wonders for a moment why they don’t have the same last name, and thinks himself a little stupid for not realizing before. Married couples usually at least hyphenate. But again, it’s not his business. These people are just so kind that he finds that he wants to be a part of it all. The thought is a striking one, but yeah, he really would like to fit in with a group like this.

Noctis is eyeing the vol-au-vents with a gleaming eye, as is Iris. “You’ll have to let me know how they fare, Noct,” Mr. Scientia says, and the familiarity and softness in his voice is such a stark contrast to how Prompto’s heard him speak thus far that he’s almost left reeling. “But first, allow Mr. Argentum a few photographs?”

The dark-haired boy looks at Prompto, then nods slowly, and Prompto walks up to the pastries. They look even more beautiful close-up, and the smell is almost cloyingly sweet. He still has the microlens on, so he leans in to take in the detail of the crust, the whipped cream, then backs up a little to switch lenses and take a photograph of the six of them lined up together. “Can I get a photograph of the inside?”

“Certainly,” Mr. Scientia nods, and grabs a knife before placing one on a delicate looking plate and cutting it in half. The filling oozes out, a mix of raspberry and chocolate, it seems, and Prompto has seen a lot of desserts, but this is probably one of the most appetizing things he’s ever seen. In his top three, at the least.

He leans in close, takes a few pictures, then backs off. “Alright,” he says, and takes a step back. “Thanks, I think I have what I need.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Scientia nods, and then grabs a few more plates. He hands the one that was cut into to Mr. Amicitia, who rolls his eyes, but takes it, and then places another on a plate and hands it to Prompto. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, um,” he starts, blinking down at the pastry. “Thank you.” His voice is a little weak, a little shaky. He’s not often offered the desserts he takes pictures of. He notices Noctis and Iris push against each other to get one of their own, completely disregarding Mr. Scientia and his idea of plates. They both just use a hand to catch crumbs. The patissier grimaces, but doesn’t seem surprised. He’s probably pretty used to it, actually.

Prompto swallows a bit before looking at his vol-au-vent again. He wants to savor it, but he also wants to inhale it. He’s very torn. He ends up picking it up gingerly, in much the same way Mr. Scientia picked up his camera, and sniffs it before making a soft noise and biting into it.

Noctis was right earlier. It _does_ taste better than it looks, and that’s certainly saying something. It’s gotta be the best thing he’s ever eaten, although it may be the heat of the moment making him say that. This pastry is about as close as he’s ever gotten to a religious experience, though. He can taste all the different layers of flavor, the depth of it all - everything that he smelled is amplified in taste. It’s not cloyingly sweet, as it seemed when he was up close and taking photographs. The dark chocolate’s bitterness takes away from the sweetness of the raspberry and banana filling, and the crust is just the right thickness that it doesn’t feel runny. The whipped cream, too, must be handmade. It’s light and fluffy, and doesn’t have the artificial taste that canned whipped cream has.

He could go on for hours about its taste, about how it’s effectively changed his life, but when he catches a look at Noctis, he’s a little taken aback. There’s a contemplative look in his blue eyes, and he chews almost thoughtfully. Considering how excited he seemed to try it, this is a little shocking. Mr. Scientia is looking at him carefully, watching his expression. “It’s amazing, Ignis,” Noctis nods. “But I think a little too much banana.”

“Ah, yes, I did try adding a little more,” the patissier admits. “But only because you said it wasn’t enough last time.” There’s an almost wry undertone to his words. Mr. Amicitia chuckles softly.

Noctis shrugs. “There wasn’t. How much did you add?"

“Just two bananas, mashed,” he offers.

“Hmm, well try one and a half next time.” But even as he says this he takes another pastry. This one he eats a little more voraciously, at least compared to the thoughtful chewing from before.

Prompto can’t tell that anything is wrong with it at all. He’s not sure of why Noctis is so nit-picky about it despite seeming to love it so much, but maybe that’s just his personality. Prompto doesn’t know any of them well enough to make a proper judgement about it.

After they’ve all finished, and there are none left of the original six, Prompto heads back into the lobby with the rest of the group. He clicks through his pictures as he walks, mentally taking note of the ones that look the best. Composition wise, the close-ups are the best, but they don’t really do the pastries justice. The lighting is good in all of them, though. He’s glad he has such a high quality camera that he can pick up just how flaky the vol-au-vents were.

He’s so wrapped up in his photographs that he runs straight into someone. Blinking, a little startled, he jumps back. It’s a young boy - well, younger than him, at least. Maybe around sixteen or so, dressed in plaid and wearing a nice haircut. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and looks down at Prompto’s camera. “I didn’t damage it, did I?”

Prompto looks down at his Nikon. Everything looks the same. The display isn’t missing any pixels or anything. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “But, hey, I should be the one apologizing,” he rubs his arm nervously. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

The boy waves him off. “No big deal,” he says, and then looks around him. Prompto turns as well.

“Talcott!” Iris laughs, running up to him. “You’re late! Noct ate the extra vol-au-vent.”

Talcott looks at Noctis, amused. Noctis doesn’t look bothered in the least. “I’ll be alright,” he laughs. “Sorry I’m late, though. Grandfather needed help with something.”

Iris harrumphs, but seems to accept his answer before dragging him towards Noctis and engaging them in conversation. Prompto takes this time to walk up to Mr. Scientia. “Ah, yes,” the patissier nods. “The release. I don’t mind you using any of the photographs you’ve taken, so long as they’re strictly on the subject manner.”

“I was going to take one of the storefront and lobby before I left, too.”

“That’s quite alright,” Mr. Scientia says, and he holds out a hand, presumably to look at the camera. Prompto takes it from around his neck and hands it to him. For a few seconds his face is completely passive - he scrolls through the various pictures and hums at certain places, and then hands it back to its owner. “They’re phenomenal. You have talent.”

Prompto flushes; getting a compliment from Mr. Scientia seems like a big deal. He catches Mr. Amicitia’s eye and gets a small, amused smile from him. Prompto has to resist the urge to flush further. He was caught. It’s normal to be pleased about being complimented, though. It’s not his fault!

“Th-thanks,” he nods, and Mr. Scientia smiles at him. It’s not exactly bright, but Prompto is grateful for it nonetheless. Maybe he’s just slow to warm up. “Um, I’ll come by within the next couple of days with the release forms and hard copies of the photographs.” He rummages through his bag and pulls out a business card that has his name, number, and email on it, as well as contact information for the company. “You can call if you need anything, Mr. Scientia.”

The patissier takes it from him. “Call me Ignis, please,” he says, almost off-handedly. “I hardly want to sound older than I already appear.”

It’s a joke, Prompto thinks, so he laughs. That appears to have been the appropriate response, seeing as Ignis smiles at him again.

“Well, see you soon,” he says, waving to everyone. They all look over at him and smile, wave back, and he locks eyes with Noctis’. He doesn’t know why. But then he tears his gaze away and exits the building.

The air outside of the bakery is warm, almost stuffy, compared to the inside of the lobby. He misses it already, the smell and the atmosphere. He doesn’t usually find himself so drawn to the places he takes pictures at. Then again, most of the time the workers aren’t so pleasant and friendly, he doesn’t usually feel so welcome.

He straightens his vest and walks down the way towards the subway, keeping his camera bag close. It’s a bit of a walk home, so he’s going to have to take public transit. He doesn’t usually mind it, but he gets nervous when he has his camera with him - it’s probably one of the most expensive items he owns, nevermind of immense personal value.

He doesn’t know what he would do if he lost it.

* * *

 

Vyv fans himself, even though the air conditioning in the building is on full blast, and flips through the pictures Prompto had printed out. He nods and hums every few seconds, and tosses them on Prompto’s desk when he’s finished. “Magnificent!” He says. “Truly inspired.” Another nod. “Have you gotten the release for them, yet?”

Prompto shakes his head. “Not yet. I was gonna call them on my lunch.”

Vyv smiles brightly. “This is something the readers’ll really love! I haven’t seen a vol-au-vent in forever! Makes me feel like traveling back to Tenebrae!”

Vyv’s enthusiasm is always contagious. Prompto beams at him; his boss usually likes his photos, he’s easily pleased, but it’s still nice. He picks up his pictures and looks through them - they really will look good on the glossy pages of the magazine. It’s hard not to feel a little prideful. He thinks back to what Ignis said, finds himself flushed with happiness again. It’s really nice to be recognized.

“Well, get that release signed. Dino already went yesterday for the interview, so that’s all that’s left!”

He’s excited to be able to return to the bakery, but it also means he won’t have a good excuse to go back again after. He guesses he could just say he liked the food, though, which wouldn’t even be a lie.

“I’ll go after work,” he tells Vyv, and nods quickly. His boss claps him on the shoulder and then strolls away from his desk and Prompto breathes out and falls into his chair. He swirls around to his computer and brings up the editing software again. The pictures for the article are finished, but he has others. Things not related to pastries, mostly found around the city; graffiti, old cars, an abandoned movie theater, just things that felt like they were screaming to be photographed.

He calls the bakery on his lunch and Iris answers, promises to relay his message that he’s coming by to Ignis, and heads on out once it hits four-thirty. Luckily the bakery isn’t far from his work, so he can walk there, enjoy the nice summer day. He prefers the air conditioning, has never been really attracted to the outdoors, but he can’t deny that a sunny day is great for his mood.

He pushes open the door to the building slowly, peering in, and finds Iris and Talcott standing by a plant in the corner, talking about something while Iris waters it. She turns her head at his entrance and shoves the watering pail into Talcott’s hand before running over to him. “Prom!” She says, and Prompto blinks at her. He doesn’t usually get nicknames. “It’s good that you’re here! Noctis had a meeting so we need a taste-tester. And you know desserts, right? It has to be you!”

Prompto can’t help but smile and laugh. “I’d be, uh, honored.”

She nods. “You’re damn right!” He’s lugged behind the counter and through the door into the kitchen. It smells heavily of chocolate.

Ignis straightens from where he’d been bent over what appears to be a mousse and looks at the both of them. “Hello again,” the man says, and Prompto waves at him. He feels excited already, just being in the presence of these people.

“Hi,” he returns cheerily.

“Prom is gonna taste the mousse! He’s been working with desserts for a while so he should be a good stand in!”

Ignis considers him carefully, and then smiles. “Of course,” he says, backing away from the dessert he’d been working with. He gestures to it and Prompto walks closer; it’s a mix of browns and white, and has a clear sheen to it. It’s quite beautiful.

Ignis hands him a small dessert spoon and Prompto looks at the mousse a little closer. He wants to take a picture of it. “Can I get a photo?” He asks.

“Of the mousse?” Ignis asks, sounding a little surprised. “May I ask why?”

“It’s pretty,” he returns, almost sheepishly, a small grin on his face.

“Well, then…by all means.”

He sets his camera bag down on the prep table, grateful that he carries it with him almost everywhere he goes, to the point where it’s an extension of him, and unloads the Nikon. He uses a smaller lens and adjusts the aperture before - _click, click, click_. The sound of a shutter moving quickly. Once he’s satisfied he backs up and hands it over to Ignis. The patissier nods as he looks at the pictures, and then hands it back. “Astounding as always.”

“I wanna see!” Iris calls, bounding up, leaning against him heavily. He laughs, even though the close proximity makes him a little nervous, and angles the camera so she can see the pictures as well. “They’re beautiful! Can I see some others?”

Prompto isn’t exactly _private_ about his photos, they all go on a blog anyway, but he always feels a little bared when people look through his unedited stuff. He gives it to her anyway and takes a bite of the mousse. It’s light, airy, the way a mousse should be, but has an underlying flavor that he can’t really place. He sets the dish down and smiles at Ignis. “It’s delicious! What’s in it?”

Ignis gives him an amused look. “You can’t tell?”

“Noct would be able to tell,” Iris puts in, teasingly.

Prompto immediately feels a little embarrassed. “Ah - wait! Give me a second!” He picks up the mousse once more and takes another bite, savoring it on his tongue. The chocolate is almost overpowering, which is why it’s so hard to identify the other ingredients. It’s very rich, too, which doesn’t help. He definitely couldn’t eat more than one. He really shouldn’t, anyway. He tries not to make a habit of eating most of the desserts that he photographs, because he works hard to not put weight on - again - but it would be beyond rude to reject an offer from the patissier. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

He considers the mousse further. So much chocolate. But there’s just a hint of salty there, too. It’s a little odd to taste in a mousse, but it tempers the sweetness; it’s not bad, just different. “Salted,” he says, once he swallows. “Caramel?”

Salted caramel is probably the only kind of salty that would work in a mousse. And it does work, even if it’s a little different.

“Indeed,” Ignis nods, and he seems pleased.

Prompto absently fidgets with the hem of his vest. “It was, um, a little hard to find underneath all the chocolate.”

This, Ignis seems to consider. “Less chocolate, then?”

He nods, a little relieved that Ignis isn’t offended at the suggestion that it’s not a perfect dessert. “Or chocolate with less cocoa. What percentage was it?”

The patissier raises an eyebrow at him. “Sixty.”

“Maybe - maybe forty.”  

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“We should keep you around,” Iris says, suddenly piping up. He’s a little startled, but turns to her. “For when Noct isn’t available."

“Uh,” he returns eloquently.

“Do you not want to?” She asks, still scrolling through his photos. He does have quite a few on there. He has a 128gb card in.

“It’s not that!” He insists, because it most certainly is _not_. “I just…” He’s just never encountered a situation like this. These people are beyond nice, but he’s met a lot of nice people in his life. He wants to take them up on their offer, because it’s nice to feel wanted, to be around friendly people, so he does. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’d - I’d like to stick around.”

Iris looks up at him and smiles one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen. “Good!” She hands him his Nikon back. “Come by whenever you have time! I’m here after classes every day, and Iggy is always here. Gladdy is most of the time, too, and Talcott. Noct is here as much as he can be, sometimes more.” She laughs at herself. “And hey,” she goes on, putting her arms behind her back and leaning forward. “Maybe you can photograph _our_ adventure, huh?

He’s met these people all of twice, but he knows that this has gotta be what it means to encounter destiny. Or at least, to be on his way.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He wants to wait to return, because he doesn’t want to seem overbearing or anything, but he finds himself standing in front of the bakery just two days after Iris invited him back. He’s got his camera at his side and takes in the storefront, the pretty flowers and various plants, and then walks inside. Again, the lobby is like walking into heaven, temperature-controlled and smelling, this time, of toasted almond. Iris isn’t there, not that he can see, but Talcott is, standing behind the counter and counting the till. As casually as he can manage he strolls up.

“How can I hel- oh,” He looks up, recognizing Prompto, and smiles. “Hello. Iris will be happy to see you’ve returned.”

Prompto smiles. He doesn’t know what to say, though, so he stays quiet, hoping it doesn’t grow awkward. It does. He tries to salvage it. “Uh, she’s here, then?”

Talcott nods his head towards the kitchen. “She’s with Noctis and the others in the back. It’s a real party today,” he laughs.

He returns the laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound forced. “Do you think they’ll mind if I…?”

“Not at all,” Talcott says, shaking his head. “In fact, like I said - they’ll be thrilled.”

Prompto nods and walks around the counter. He nods to Talcott before pushing through the door into the kitchen.

“I’m telling you, Ignis, not enough vanilla!” Noctis is standing with a hand on his hip and another holding what appears to be some kind of biscotti.

Ignis puts a hand to his forehead, apparently in frustration. “I put two tablespoons of vanilla in the mixture. The recipe only calls for one.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Noctis turns, hearing the door shut, and then quickly sets his biscotti down, picks up a new one, and brings it over to him. “Try it,” he says, and his blue eyes are a little fierce. He apparently feels strongly about this.

Prompto takes it from Noctis, blinking, and then brings it up and takes a small bite. It’s a little dry, but that’s to be expected. There’s also some cranberry in there, which is nice, but Noctis was right. Not enough vanilla. “How, uh, how many did you make with the mixture?”

Ignis sighs and shakes his head. “I made twenty-five.”

He looks back at Noctis, who has an insistent expression on his face. Not only is he right, Prompto is also a little nervous that he might be attacked if he doesn’t agree. “It needs more vanilla,” he confesses. “For that amount, at least.”

Noctis seems pleased, a grin stretching across his lips. It’s a more handsome look on him. He must be the type that likes to be right, then, not that Prompto can blame him. Behind the dark-haired boy, Ignis seems to be less pleased. Prompto doesn’t blame him, either. “See?” Noctis turns around. “More vanilla.”

Prompto thinks they’re being a little anal about the whole thing - everything he’s tasted so far has been absolutely delicious, but he guesses it isn’t a good thing to let these small things go by. He knows that he likes constructive criticism for his photos, even if they end up great. Things can always be better.

Iris walks up to him. “Oh, better be careful,” she warns in a lilting tone. “Noctis senses that a new ally has entered the ring.”

Prompto looks at her. “What do you mean?”

“He likes to be backed up. He thinks he’s some handsome lone wolf, but he likes to be surrounded by like-minded people. He likes being close with others.” She crosses her arms. “But don’t be fooled - Ignis is probably one of the most important people in his life. He just likes to think he’s superior.”

Prompto gives her a wry smile. “Think, huh?”

“Yeah,” she giggles. “Ignis isn’t just a great baker. He’s smart, too, which is probably why he’s so good at cooking. Ya know, once he tried to explain molecular gastronomy to me. It went right over my head. I like to cook, but it’s more of an art than a science to me.” She pauses, as if collecting her thoughts. “And he’s strong and just - very cool. Noct is cool, too, but probably not as cool as he thinks he is. I think he tries too hard, honestly.”

Prompto gets that, the whole trying too hard thing. He tried that in high school, after losing weight, tried to overcompensate. It didn’t really work all that well. He was still pretty shitty at making friends, still too shy, and it shone through. It has, unfortunately, bled into his adult life as well, but he can sense that that’s slowly changing. Or that it’s going to, at least.

Noctis sets his biscotti down, wipes the crumbs on his hands off on his pants, and then looks at Prompto again. “I never got to see the pictures for the article. Show me?”

It makes sense that he would be interested in that - he’s invested in this place, too. “Sure,” Prompto nods. “Um, yeah, that would be fine. Awesome, actually.” He needs to stop while he’s ahead. “I have the hard copies with me if you want to go sit down and look at them.”

Noctis looks back at Ignis, who gives a rather amused huff and nods towards the lobby. It wasn’t really like asking for permission, not quite, but nonetheless Noctis walks forward, smooth steps that make him seem graceful, and Prompto watches him for a moment before following. He hears Iris snicker just as he’s leaving the kitchen.

They find a table towards the back and Prompto takes out his bag. He takes out his camera, then goes into the other compartment for the physical copies of the photos. He situates them on the table so that Noctis can pick and choose which ones he’d like to see.

The first one Noctis reaches for is the one he took with the microlens. “Cool, dude,” he says, a little breathy. “You can see how flaky it is.”

Prompto preens a little under the praise, even though it was said pretty casually. “Thanks, man,” he nods. “My favorite is the one that shows the inside.” He picks up one of the photos and hands it over to Noctis.

Noctis does seem interested, which is nice. “It looks real,” he says. “I mean - agh - you know what I mean.”

Prompto laughs a little. It’s easy to talk with Noctis, at least when he’s not being so intense. He’s approachable. “Well, my baby here,” he pats his Nikon. “Is very good at making things look ‘real.’”

Noctis looks at the camera. “Can I see?”

Lots of people have been wanting to see his Nikon lately. “Sure thing,” he says, and scoots it across the table. But unlike the others, who simply looked at the pictures he has saved on the SD card, Noctis holds it up, presses an eye to the viewfinder, points it at Prompto, and snaps a picture. Needless to say, Prompto is a little shocked. “What?”

Noctis just pulls the camera away and looks at the display. “It doesn’t look right,” he frowns.

For a second he wonders if Noctis means that Prompto doesn’t look right, but then he realizes that the wrong lens is on, and it’s still on manual focus. “I can fix that,” he says, and holds out his hand. Almost grumpily, Noctis hands it over to him. It’s kind of cute, even though it’s usually not all that cute when adults pout. Noctis achieves it, though.

He turns it on automatic focus and switches out the lens before handing it back to Noctis. “Try again.”

Noctis holds it up, stilling pointing it at Prompto. “Pose,” Noctis says, and Prompto is a little lost as to what to do for a moment. But then he smiles and rests his chin on his palm, his elbow resting on the table. “Look to the left.”

Oh, Noctis is directing him. He doesn’t really have a problem with that - it’s a little amusing even. He casts his gaze to the left, out of the window that overlooks the street. He schools his expression into something natural, something casual, and finds the situation funnier by the second. He waits until Noctis snaps a few pictures, and then laughs - maybe a little too loudly. Noctis pulls the camera away and gives him a confused look. “What?”

Prompto shakes his head. “I’ve never been a model before,” he says, still laughing. “I don’t know, I’m always on the other side of the camera, I guess.”

Noctis seems to understand, but he doesn’t smile. “I wish,” he says, and hands the camera back. “I’m always in front of the camera. It’s nice to be behind it for once. Feels safer.”

Prompto blinks at him, laughter long having faded away. He looks down at his camera. “Feels like hiding, sometimes,” he admits.

Noctis smiles now, something lazy and handsome. Prompto decides that he really likes it when Noctis smiles. “I think it feels like control.”

He’s never thought of it that way, but he guesses it is. Noctis did tell him how to look, how to move, and when he’s taking his photographs he chooses the angle, chooses the distance, the lighting. It is like control, and it does feel safer. Maybe that’s why he likes it. Not just because of the hiding. It makes him feel a little better about it.

“You belong with a camera,” Noctis says after a moment. “Either in front of it or behind it. I can tell.” Prompto has barely talked with Noctis, but he’s so, so right. He must just have a sense for these things. They’re quiet a while longer, mostly because Prompto doesn’t really know what to say to that other than thanks, and then he notices Noctis staring at him. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” He asks, and Prompto is immediately confused. “You’ve definitely upgraded from the little thing you had in middle school.”

“What?”

Noctis raises an eyebrow at him and then leans back in his chair. “It’s been over a decade, but it’s still a little weird that you don’t remember.”

“Remember?”

“We went to the same middle school,” he says. “You tried to take pictures of me, but chickened out.”

Okay, Prompto had to have blocked that out, or maybe Noctis is mistaking him for someone else. It would be entirely possible. He looks so much different than he did back then. He could be two different people. “I...don’t…”

“You tried talking to me and tripped over that beam. It was definitely you, even if you look a little different.”

Prompto thinks on this. He really doesn’t remember a lot of middle school. It was mostly trying not to be noticed and a lot of pictures of animals and the like. He doesn’t know why he would have tried to speak with Noctis, especially if he was some cute rich kid. Prompto never did well with that type.

“Well,” Noctis sighs, and he looks out of the window now. “Maybe you’ll remember at some point.” Prompto wants to ask him again if he’s totally sure that they’re the same person, but Noctis seems positive. “Maybe if we talk more, or something. Give it time.”

He feels apologetic. “Sorry, Dude,” he says. “It was a long time ago.”

Noctis gives a small laugh. “Just hard to believe you don’t remember falling flat on your face.” He does kind of remember that, but he doesn’t remember Noctis being there. “We didn’t go to the same high school or anything, though. My dad had me pulled out of public school and put in some private institution.” He rolls his eyes. “Better academics, he said.”

“Did you...recognize me immediately?”

Noctis shakes his head. “No, but I recognized you once you started taking pictures.” That’s right - Noctis had asked who he was. Wouldn’t make sense to ask someone who they are if you know them already. “It was the only time you seemed comfortable.”

That means that...Noctis was watching him, then? He’s not weirded out by it, but he is a little confused. Why would he do that? His phone beeps and he pulls it out of his pocket - it’s Vyv. Wants him to start getting some ideas for his next article.

“Um,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. “I have to go, but...I’ll be back.”

“You just got here.”

“My boss,” he sighs. “It’s for work.”

“Alright,” Noctis says, but he’s smiling a little. He stands. “When are you coming back again?”

Prompto can do nothing but stare for a moment, then he smiles. Maybe a little too brightly. Noctis cares about him coming back. He wants Prompto to come back. “When are you gonna be back?”

A small grin alights Noctis’ face. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

Prompto stands, adjusts his camera bag against his hip, and nods. “Same,” he says, still smiling. “Alright, tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Noctis agrees, and Prompto thinks he needs to leave before he ends up making excuses to stay. He needs to get home to do that work, but stops when he hears Noctis call him again. “Hey, Prom.” Prompto turns to him - when did Noctis start using the nickname Iris gave him? “Just so you know, you didn’t have to be so scared in middle school. And you don’t have to be now.” He walks up and claps a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “I,” he clicks his tongue as his hand slips away and he looks away. “I can tell that you’re holding back. Don’t.” Their eyes meet again. “It’s better when you smile.”

And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Prompto with the weirdest flush of happiness in his chest and a bright red on his cheeks. He turns to leave the bakery before anyone sees him, and sighs into the later afternoon air. He tries not to overthink anything on the way home.

* * *

He crosses his legs and leans back against his couch. His laptop is open on the coffee table in front of him, and he’s been staring at the same photograph for quite a while - the one that Noctis took of him in the bakery earlier. He added a filter, to saturate the colors somewhat since the lighting was a bit off, but something seems off. At the time he thought his pose was very relaxed, but there’s a tension in his shoulders that he didn’t even realize. Maybe that’s what Noctis noticed. Has he seemed that tense since he first showed up? He’s always been expressive, but he figured it wasn’t that bad.

A sigh, and then he uncrosses his legs and leans forward. Noctis said it was better when he smiled, so maybe he should try smiling? He grabs his camera from beside his laptop, slides the SD card back in, and aims it at him. He thinks it should be an okay angle, even though he can’t see the viewfinder or display, so he smiles brightly and holds up a peace sign with his free hand, then snaps the picture.

He brings the camera back down to him and looks at the photograph. It’s a bit off. He tries again. And again. Then he tries different lighting. They all look off. He thinks it’s his smile, maybe? Or the way he squints his eyes? Something just doesn’t look right.

Frowning, he moves back towards the couch and plops down on it. It’s not like he doesn’t know how to smile - he smiles pretty often he thinks, but maybe it’s just hard to force it. He’ll try again later; he picks up his laptop and sets it on his lap before opening a new photoshop file and working on stuff for his blog. Might as well be productive.

* * *

When he returns the next day, he doesn’t feel so bad. Noctis wants him there, Iris wants him there - they all seem to genuinely enjoy his presence. So he walks in with a smile, looking around and finding Noctis sitting on a stool near the counter; the dark haired boy perks up when he sees him, and immediately slides off the chair before seemingly noticing how enthused he seems and backing off a bit. It’s very charming.

He waves at Noctis, who grins back, and meets him by the counter. Whoever’s manning the cash register must be in the kitchen. “Is Iris here?”

Noctis nods his head in the direction of the door, confirming Prompto’s suspicions. “Doesn’t matter, though,” he says, and he pushes himself off of the stool. Prompto gives him a confused look. “Come on, we’re going.”

“What?” Prompto asks, blue eyes wide as Noctis’s fingers latch around his wrist and lightly pull him towards the door. He dutifully follows, doesn’t pull away, and he notices yet again how hot Noctis’s palms are. He must run hot naturally. Prompto casts one last look at the counter before they’re outside again.

It’s midday on a Saturday, so the area is bustling. He looks around, wondering where Noctis is taking him, and can’t help but speak up. “Where are we going?”

Noctis looks back at him, and Prompto can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the sun, when it gleams off his hair, his skin, his eyes. He believes Noctis less and less every time he looks at him, because how could he forget? He’s never had the best memory, and it has been a long time, over a decade, but how could he forget? He casts it to the side as Noctis looks in front of them again, weaving through people at a busy intersection. “You’ll see,” is all he says, rather cryptically. Iris was right - he does try a little too hard. He doesn’t need to.

He’s led to a subway station, and Noctis doesn’t pause at all as he buys their tickets and loads them onto a train. There’s a lot of people here, too, so many that they can’t find a seat, so they just stand next to each other. Noctis is rather quiet now, probably doesn’t have much to say, but Prompto is bursting with questions. This has to be related to his memories, right? It has to be. Noctis is probably offended that Prompto doesn’t remember him. “Hey,” he starts, and Noctis looks over at him. He had released Prompto’s wrist as soon as they entered the train. “You don’t…have any ideas as to how I could have forgotten, do you?”

Noctis shrugs. “It’s been a long time, and it was only our final semester that you tried to take the photographs.”

Prompto grimaces at himself. “You don’t find that weird?”

“I find it interesting.”

This confuses Prompto, but a lot of things about Noctis confuse him. “What do you mean?”

“Adults were always trying to get photographs, interviews, always wanted to talk to me in get in close because of my dad, but there was never anyone my age like that. They all tried to talk to me, I guess because of my money,” here he shrugs, and then continues, “but you didn’t seem motivated by that.” He crosses his arms and taps a finger on his bicep. “I could just tell, because you took photos of everything. You seemed to like taking pictures for the sake of taking pictures.”

Prompto clutches his camera bag a little closer. “I took pictures of things I wanted to...remember.”

Here, Noctis tilts his head to the side a little in confusion. “And yet, you don’t remember me.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing a picture of you anywhere. I couldn’t have actually gotten any. Or at least, ones that I liked. I always just...delete things that don’t capture what I’m trying to express correctly.”

“I think everyone’s like that,” Noctis shrugs. “Ignis just throws away the desserts that he doesn’t like. Iris throws away the things she creates, too, if she doesn’t like them. Everyone has standards, and if they don’t meet them, they seem to think whatever they created isn’t worth anything.” He frowns now, and Prompto thinks it makes him look a little too much like a brooding teenager. It’s a little funny, so he attempts to school his smile into something a little more sympathetic. Noctis seems to be making a good point. “But everyone is their own worst critic.” Prompto understands that completely. “I think people need to learn to make their standards more realistic.”

“Huh?”

Noctis plays with his fringe, then wipes the hair out of his eyes. “Artists improve with every piece they create, then look back at what they just made expecting it to be as good as they became. And even when they don’t, it’s human nature to compare ourselves with the people we admire. A painter who loves Monet will paint and paint and never think they’re good enough because they weren’t him, and even once they’re able to replicate La Promenade to the point where art historians can’t tell the difference, they’ll still think it could be better.”

“You’ve never heard of Picasso, have you?”

Noctis looks at him, then snickers. “Okay, painters were a bad example.”

Prompto laughs, too. When he was still in school, trekking through his visual arts degree, his painting professor was the most conceited man he’d ever met. A lot of the older painters seemed to be. Still good people, just thought the work they created made the sun shine and angels cry.

Although the younger an artist is, the harder they seem to be on themselves, which is counterintuitive seeing as they have less experience. But Prompto can think that a million times and still fall into the category. He generally really likes the photos he takes, but still finds himself editing them to all hell before posting them.

The train makes a stop and he gives Noctis a questioning look, but he just shakes his head. Another stop, then.

“What’s the point of not telling me where we’re going?” He asks, in an almost whining tone. It’s starting to drive him a little crazy.

Noctis smirks. It’s infuriating how good it looks on him when it’s meant to be teasing. “It would take all the fun out of it.”

“You just like seeing people squirm, don’t you?” He asks, before he can stop himself. But Noctis just laughs. He has to admit that the anticipation and wonder is a little exciting, but he’s always disliked surprises. Regardless, there’s nothing he can really do about it if Noctis is so dead-set on not telling him. What a sadist.

Noctis leans against the bar he should be holding onto to keep steady and says, “So what got you started into,” he nods at Prompto’s camera bag, “photography?”

Prompto isn’t sure of whether he’s actually interested or just trying to blatantly change the subject. He answers anyway. “Well,” he says, and he looks out of the window - he doesn’t see much besides a cement wall zipping by. “I guess it started because…” He purses his lips. He doesn’t really talk about his past much, but it’s just Noctis, and if he wants to be friends he’s going to have to be honest. “It made me feel like I wasn’t...alone?” He laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “My parents were never around. I guess taking pictures reminded me that there were things outside of my empty house. I had a dog for a little while, but he ran away, and I never really had any friends.”

It feels stupid to say out loud, like he’s trying to spew some sob story, something childish, but it’s true. Even if he’s an adult now, his childhood years left a little to be desired. He was always lonely - still is, sometimes. Most of the time? But he’s found that lately, being surrounded by everyone at the bakery has helped with that.

Noctis hums. “Growing up it was kind of like everyone wanted to be around me because of where I came from rather than who I was, and my dad was usually busy with - whatever he was doing back then. I never paid attention to any of it. There were a couple of people, like Luna, or Ignis, but it was different.”

Prompto is silently pleased that Noctis, rather than laying on thick sympathy or apathy he responded in kind with something almost relatable. Almost. Close enough, anyway. “So...who’s Luna?”

Noctis smiles a little, looks at him, and then looks away. “A childhood friend,” he says. “We grew up together for a while, but then she moved away. We’ve kept in touch through letters through the years, though. I haven’t seen her since we were kids.”

“She’s not your girlfriend?”

Noctis laughs now, and there’s the faintest tinge of pink on his cheeks. If Prompto weren’t watching so closely he wouldn’t have noticed. “No,” he shakes his head. “As much as my dad would like that. I love her, but…” He pauses. “I don’t think it’s romantic. I try thinking about her like that, as my girlfriend or wife, and it feels...weird? Like being married to your best friend? It wouldn’t be so bad, I wouldn’t dislike it, I guess, but,” he makes a soft noise of frustration and shakes his head again. “Why be with someone because you wouldn’t hate it? You should be with someone because you want to be with them, right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees. “Yeah, true.”

“Besides, she’s so far away, and I couldn’t live in Tenebrae or expect her to come live in Insomnia. It would be nice to see her regularly but,” he shrugs. “No, she’s not my girlfriend. Iris just likes to tease me about it. She thinks she’s funny.” Prompto snickers a little, and Noctis gives him a strange look. “What?”

“I just,” he starts. “She said something kind of similar about you. That you think you’re way cooler than you are.”

“Hey,” Noctis frowns. “I am cool.”

“I think calling yourself cool makes you less cool.”

“No way,” he returns.

Prompto is struck by how comfortable he feels around Noctis - not for the first time. It’s almost weird, but he thinks that there’s just something about him, something casual and open, that makes Prompto want to laugh and joke around. He finds himself smiling a lot more than he ever used to, at least.

The train stops again and he stumbles, not paying attention; Noctis grabs him by the arm before he falls and holds him up. “Hey,” Noctis laughs, seemingly having forgotten his previous offense. “Watch it, Clumsy.”

He feels his face heat up a little, but collects himself and straightens. “My bad,” he says, and distinctly notices the absence of warmth when Noctis pulls his hand away. “You say that but,” he chuckles a little, trying to play off the fact that he’s probably still flushed. “I really am clumsy.”

The doors open to let people out and Noctis makes his way towards them. “I’ll have to stick around to keep an eye out for you then.” He looks over his shoulder, and Prompto can only stand and watch. There’s something in his expression that has him frozen. “If you’re gonna keep falling all the time.” Noctis makes it out of the train and nods his head towards the stairs. “Come on, before the doors close.”

Prompto remembers himself suddenly and jogs out, his bag knocking against his hip. His mouth feels a little dry, his throat is a little clogged, and he’s a little concerned about how fast his heart is beating, but he ignores it. “You gonna tell me where we’re going yet?”

Noctis shakes his head. “Nope.”

Prompto groans a little, but it’s mostly for theatrics. Mostly.

They’re quiet as they walk; they move up the stairs and into the outdoors, and the brightness of the sun has his eyes hurting until they adjust. When they do, Noctis is looking at him a little strangely. “What?” Prompto asks, somewhat self-conscious.

“You’re different than I thought you would be, all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

Noctis continues walking, and Prompto suddenly recognizes where they are. He follows quietly as he waits for Noctis to keep talking. “I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I just thought you would be more…” He pauses. “Introverted? You’re a little wary, but you’re not an introvert.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling,” he says, rather flippantly. “Back in middle school you didn’t really talk to people - not that I saw - but you seem to want to now. I mean, not that introverts don’t like people, but I’ve never met an introvert that wanted to be around people as much as you do.”

Prompto feels bare. He doesn’t get how Noctis can read him the way he does. He does want to be around people, so much. He wants to be surrounded by them, even if they’re typically not. “How…?”

Noctis shrugs. “It’s your aura. You smile more when you think people are accepting you.”

“Even introverts like to be accepted,” he returns, if only because he wants to hear what Noctis has to say about that.

“But an introvert wouldn’t feel eager to go spend time with a group of people like us every day,” Noctis explains. “And they wouldn’t have a job that enables them to be surrounded by new people all of the time.”

Prompto doesn’t know when Noctis became the resident expert on introverts, but he’s not wrong about him, at least. “Maybe,” he says, because he doesn’t really know how else to respond. He’s always hated being alone, every second of it. He really would prefer to spend every second of every day with people, if he could.

“We’re close, now,” Noctis puts in, effectively redirecting the conversation. “You know where we’re going yet?”

“Our old middle school, right?” He asks. “Why?”

“Studies suggest that it’s easier to remember things if you were in the same place you catalogued the memory,” Noctis says, almost sagely. He really does have an ego, doesn’t he? Prompto doesn’t find himself put out by it, though. It’s kind of humorous in a way. “So maybe if we go back to where you fell on your face it’ll come back to you.”

“You really care about me remembering, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, looking at Prompto in the corner of his eye. “Who likes being forgotten?”

That is a good point. It makes him feel pretty bad, too. Noctis can remember him, even though he’s changed drastically, but he can’t remember Noctis? It’s not just weird, it’s offensive.

As they near the school, Prompto looks around at the campus. He spent a while here, but the years are a blur, honestly. Everything was just a mess of scheduled isolation. He repeated every day the same as the one before. No wonder he can’t remember specific instances from when he was a kid.

He’s walking towards the front doors, to get a look at the inside, when he feels fingers wrap around his wrist again. “This way,” Noctis says, and he’s pulled towards the side of the main building. He keeps up, if only to keep from being dragged, and tries not to trip as he walks. Noctis is quick, determined, so it doesn’t take long before they reach their destination. He slows to a stop, and then releases Prompto’s wrist.

“Here,” he says, and Prompto looks around. “This is where you tripped.”

Noctis points at a beam that’s lifted a little off the ground. Prompto is surprised it’s still there, actually. He squints at it, and he thinks he does remember. He doesn’t know if it’s just situational, but he believes Noctis a little more. He really doesn’t have much of a reason to doubt him, anyway. “Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, I kind of remember that.”

He looks at Noctis, who frowns. “What else do you remember? Do you need to trip again to spark it?”

“No thanks,” Prompto laughs. “I trip enough on my own - I don’t need to do it on purpose.” Noctis smirks, and Prompto laughs a little more. “But, um, let’s see…” He steps forward, looking at everything closely. It’s still bright outside, so he can see everything very well, and it’s like remembering something from a dream he had a long time ago.

He looks at Noctis, who’s standing a ways away now, and when he blinks he swears he can see him as a preteen, small and stoic, more reserved than he is now. “Maybe I didn’t remember you because you never smiled,” Prompto puts in, and Noctis’s eyes light up. “I mean,” he rustles his hair. “I still don’t really remember anything specific, but I do remember you. I think. Probably.” He has the memory of an image, at least.

“I’ll take it,” Noctis grins. “Although it’s still weird that you can’t remember that specific day.”

Prompto purses his lips. “Well,” he says, and he looks away, at the beam he presumably tripped over. “Things were pretty...I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I didn’t have much I felt like remembering, I guess.”

“That’s not the way memories work,” Noctis tells him.

Prompto shrugs again. “I don’t know, really. I couldn’t tell you why. I guess just...time.”

Noctis looks a little skeptical, but lets it go. “Let’s go eat, then. There’s a diner pretty close that serves great jambalaya.”

Prompto is a little shocked that Noctis is so quick to leave - it did take them some time to get here - but maybe he’s been hungry for a while or something. He doesn’t question it. He just follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introversion/Extroversion is a spectrum and not a binary but Noct has that ego and probably thinks he knows best anyway lmao I love that egotistical little shit so much


	3. Chapter 3

The diner is...well, the only word he can really think of is friendly. Takka seems to have a perpetual smile on his face, even when Noctis refuses to try his new red beans and rice dish. “Beans are gross,” is all he said, and Takka just shrugged and replied, “Boy never did like his beans. Veggies neither,” as an explanation for Prompto. 

They sit across from each other in a booth, and Prompto purses his lips as he looks over the menu. Sure he  _ can  _ afford whatever he wants, but he’s really supposed to be saving. There’s a new lens he really wants, and pinching pennies has been known to work in the past. It ends up not mattering, though, because Noctis softly pries the menu from his hands and sets it down next to him. “I’m telling you,” he grins. “The jambalaya. It’s pretty spicy, but it’s good.” Prompto opens his mouth to respond but Noctis cuts him off. “And it’s my treat. That’s non-negotiable. I dragged you out here, so I can cover your…” he trails off. “Dinner? It’s kind of early for dinner but late for lunch.” He waves his hand in dismissal. “Whatever. I’m paying."

Prompto has always hated being paid for, but at the same time, he can’t feel too bad. Noctis seems really sure, like he really wants to cover it, and there’s offense in rejecting someone’s gift. So he lets it go with a nod. “Thanks, man,” he mutters. 

Noctis shrugs. “It’s no problem.” He rests his chin on his palm and looks around. “I haven’t been here in ages. I’m surprised Takka even remembered me.” He grins and glances over at Prompto. “Apparently I’m easily forgettable.” 

It’s more than obvious that Noctis is teasing him, but he rises to it anyway, face heating up and back going ramrod straight. “I-!” He cuts himself off, then starts again. “That was-!” Noctis raises an eyebrow at him, as if asking him to go on. “My bad,” he manages finally, deflating. “I, uh, I’ll make it up to you?” 

“Is that a question?” Noctis asks, and his smile exudes a lazy kind of confidence that Prompto hopes to one day achieve. 

“I guess? Can I make it up to you?” 

Noctis’s eyes flash; he looks absolutely overjoyed, even if his grin doesn’t change. “We’ll have to see.” 

Prompto doesn’t really like the sound of that, but he imagines that Noctis is just being playful. He hopes so, anyway. 

* * *

After their meal, which they could never decide on a name for, they start back towards the subway station. They chatter along the way, about mostly unimportant things, and Noctis’s general nonchalance and carefree nature has him totally relaxed. He walks a fine line between interest and disinterest, to where Prompto can’t always tell if he’s actually invested in certain things, but his eyes are expressive. So any time that he’s confused or concerned, all he has to do is look over and he has his answer - those blue eyes have been glued on him every time, screaming attentiveness, and he’s always filled with a kind of relief. He’s starting to realize that Noctis isn’t just humoring him. He maybe lets it get to his head a little, but it ends up being fine; Noctis seems to be interested the most when Prompto gets excited anyway. 

* * *

“You guys were gone for so long!” Iris complains, gripping onto his vest as he walks through the bakery doors. “And Noct wasn’t answering his phone! We were worried!” 

Prompto looks over at Noctis, who crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. “About what?” 

Iris leans back on her heels and gives him a cheshire grin. “Thought maybe you kidnapped him!” A conspiratorial edge enters her tone. “You know, like, at first he was a good companion with the whole taste-testing thing, but then he became  _ too _ good. You had to get rid of him.” 

Noctis rolls his eyes again, but _ harder _ . Prompto thinks he could hurt himself rolling his eyes that hard. “Yes, because I’d kidnap him in broad daylight, when you know that I’m with him.” 

“You say that as if you’d kidnap him in other conditions,” Iris shoots back, narrowing her eyes playfully. 

“Ugh.” 

Prompto laughs, earning looks from both of them, and then they each laugh in return. Iris shakes her head and grabs one of Prompto’s hands with both of hers before dragging him towards the kitchen. “Well, while you two were on your date, Iggy and Talcott were working on refining that old orange cake recipe.” 

“There wasn’t anything wrong with it,” Noctis says, then, and Prompto is still reeling from Iris’s date comment. Noctis doesn’t seem bothered in the least.“We worked that recipe half to death.” 

“Yeah, five years ago,” Iris returns, and then pushes the door to the kitchen open. “Iggy! Explain your reasoning!” She shouts once they’re inside. 

It’s hot on the other side of the door, presumably because Ignis is in the middle of baking, and Prompto already sorely misses the air conditioned lobby. He steps forward with the other two anyway. “The lemon,” the patissier says simply. 

Noctis makes a soft sound of frustration. “I thought we already came to a compromise on that.” 

“Indeed,” Ignis says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Although it was less of a compromise and more spoiled Noct getting his way.” 

“I’m  _ not _ spoiled.” 

Everyone in the room, except for Noctis and Prompto, snorts. Prompto is mostly confused. “What was wrong with the lemon?”

Mr. Amicitia - Gladiolus - speaks up. “Noct hates lemon.” 

“And simply put,” Ignis cuts in, opening his oven and pulling out a tray of thinly sliced cakes, “if Noct dislikes an ingredient, it spoils his entire opinion on the dish.” 

“Oh…”

Noctis walks up to Ignis and his tray of newly raised cakes, and sniffs the air. “Lemon doesn’t go in an orange cake,” he says simply. 

“Of course it does,” Iris pipes in, taking a few steps forward in order to hit Noctis on the arm - hard. “You’re biased.” 

“ _ You’re _ biased,” Noctis shoots back. 

“How am I biased?” 

“You probably like lemon!” 

“I do! So what?!” 

“Alright, children,” Ignis sighs. “I only put in a small amount, and the only reason I’m changing it is because a customer left a comment about it.” 

The noise that Noctis makes is filled with so much offense it’s hilarious. “What? Like it would be  _ better _ with lemon?” 

Gladiolus, Ignis, and Iris all chime in with a deadpanned, “Yes.” 

Prompto can’t help but laugh, which earns a wounded look from Noctis. “Sorry,” he murmurs, hiding his grin behind his hand. 

“Well,” Noctis puts in, turning back towards the cake. “Let me try it, then.” He does not look excited about the prospect.

“You have to let them cool,” Ignis chastises, placing a hand on Noctis’s shoulder and gently pushing him back.  Noctis goes easily, looking almost relieved. “I’ll let you know when they’re ready. Why don’t you go wait in the lobby?” 

Noctis just looks at Ignis for a moment before turning again and leaving the kitchen with a shrug. Iris follows, and Prompto is about to as well when he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He pauses and turns, giving Gladiolus a questioning look. He wonders where that scar over his eye came from. 

“He wouldn’t shut up about you,” he says. He’s silent for just a moment before backpedaling and restarting. “Well, he wouldn’t shut up about you forgetting him.” 

“Although he didn’t speak his words so much as wear them in his expression,” Ignis adds, from where he’s untying his apron. 

Prompto  _ already _ felt bad about that; he doesn’t understand why they had to mention it in again. “I...do remember,” he says, and Gladiolus’s hand slips away. “It’s just...hazy. Most of those years are.”  

Gladiolus makes a thoughtful noise. “I hear ya,” he says, although it seems like there’s more on the tip of his tongue. “Just try not to forget again.” 

It doesn’t sound like a threat in any sense, but it probably is. He takes it to heart all the same. “I wouldn’t!” He assures them, and he sees Ignis smile down at his cakes. Gladiolus claps him on the back, hard (another Amicitia trait), and laughs. 

“Prooooom,” Iris calls, from the lobby, and he looks at the other two for a moment before nodding and running back through the door. 

It’s much cooler out here, which he’s grateful for, and Iris is perched up on top of the counter. Noctis is leaned against it, very casually, very cooly, and he turns his head slowly to look at Prompto as he enters the lobby. Prompto smiles at him, and Noctis grins back.”Listen,” Iris says, vaulting herself off of the counter. “We need your help.” 

“With…?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. 

Noctis pushes off of the counter and strolls up to him. “Iris is irresponsible and forgets plans.” 

“I am not irresponsible!” She returns, puffing out her cheeks. “Noct, you’re so mean.” She pouts a little, crossing her arms, and then looks back at Prompto. “He’s halfway right, though. I forgot that I have to meet up with a friend for a study session at the library, and it’s probably gonna take all day, and Talcott can’t work Sundays anyway…”

Oh, he sees where this is going. “Um, sure,” he nods. 

“Wait, really?” She asks, perking up. Her smile could probably light up all of Lucis. “You realize what I’m asking right? I mean, it’s not  _ difficult _ . Mostly you stand around and when a customer shows up you punch in whatever they want on the computer and take their money. Real simple, you know?” She pauses. “And Iggy will pay you, too! Gladdy was going to have to take over for me, so they’ll both be grateful.” She hums. “He’s really a people person but customers are always scared off by the big muscly man with scars all over his face and tattoos all over his arms. He doesn’t really fit in a bakery, does he?” 

Prompto smiles. “I think he fits pretty well.” 

Iris laughs, and Noctis snorts. “He does, but only the regulars know that,” she tells him, placing her hands on her hips. “Awesome.” But then she deflates. “But it’s my first day off in forever and it’s to study.” 

Prompto loves it here, he really does, and he thinks any excuse to come is a good excuse. He could use the extra money, too. That’s always a plus. “I don’t mind covering sometimes, if you want? On a Saturday or Sunday.” 

Iris looks over at Noctis, who raises an eyebrow at her. “What do you think, Noct?” She asks, and there’s a feline grin on her lips. “You want Prompto to cover my shifts sometimes?” 

He rolls his eyes. “He’d be here anyway.” 

The fact that Noctis just assumes that should be offensive, but really it makes him happy. He isn’t sure of why, but it’s probably to do with that overwhelming feeling of acceptance again. “I guess I would be,” he says, airily, in a lilting tone, and they both look over at him. 

Then Iris laughs joyfully and pushes him. “Look, look! Prom is playful! I knew it!” Her eyes are big and crimson. “Do it again.” 

“What?” He laughs. 

“Tease Noct. Come on, I need a new partner in crime.” She puts up her fists in Noctis’s direction. 

“What, like make a joke about him?” 

“Yeah!” She laughs. “It’s super easy, watch!” She clears her throat and leans against Prompto. “Hey, Noct!” 

“What?” He groans, seemingly not excited to hear what comes next. 

“Tell me, how old are you?” 

Now the dark-haired boy just looks confused. “Twenty-five.” 

“Whew, I never would have guessed it. I really could have sworn you were a brooding  _ fifteen _ year old earlier when you were pouting about the lemon in the cake. What really sells it is the whole scene kid haircut. What year is it again?” She turns her head closer to Prompto and stage whispers, “He hates being teased about his hair. It’s like a trophy to him.” 

Prompto honestly understands that. He works hard on his hair, too. Still, he can’t help but laugh at Noctis’s resulting expression. He looks so severely unimpressed with her that Prompto isn’t sure his expression could get any blander. “Ha-ha,” he says, rather than laughs. “Hey, Prompto.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Ask Iris about her plushie collection. What were you saying about age, Miss Legally Able to Drink?” 

Iris finally pulls away from Prompto and holds her nose up in the air. “It’s my craft,” she tells him, primly. “Let’s talk more about your obsession with sitting around for hours doing nothing but holding a rod, huh?” 

Noctis rolls his eyes, unperturbed by her double entendre. “Fishing is a sport.” 

“A boring sport,” she shoots back, sticking her tongue out. 

Prompto really would think they were siblings, from the way they bicker. It’s kind of nice, though, in a way; he always wanted a sibling. 

“Anyway,” Noctis says, redirecting the conversation. “I’m gonna leave. I have some documents I need to look over at the condo.” He walks up to Prompto. “Hold your hand out.” With a million questions in his mind, he does. Noctis smacks it lightly, then grabs it. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute,” Iris mocks. “A secret handshake.” 

Noctis just ignores her. “See you tomorrow, Prom.” 

“Uh...yeah. See you tomorrow.” Noctis’s warm palm slides out of his, and then he turns his back and makes his way out of the bakery. 

“Ugh, not even gonna tell  _ me _ bye?!” Iris calls after him. Without turning around, he lifts a hand in farewell, then disappears behind the closing door. She pauses. “He conveniently forgot to try the new orange cake…” 

Prompto laughs. “I don’t think he wanted to.” 

She nods. “Probably afraid he’ll like it. Then he’ll have to either lie or fess up.” She shrugs. “And Noct isn’t a liar, at the least.” Smiling, Iris opens up the display and takes out a cupcake. As she unwraps the paper around the bottom, she says, “I think he likes you, though. He doesn’t usually have  _ handshakes _ .” She laughs, then bites into the pastry. After she swallows, she continues. “Well, he does for Gladdy, but they’re like dudebros. Maybe he wants a new one.” 

He can’t help but laugh again. “A dudebro, huh?” 

“Yeah. That was totally a ‘Bye, Man!’ handshake. I smell the bromance already.” 

“I think that’s just vanilla,” he jokes, nodding at the cupcake. 

“A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet,” she says lightly, then takes another bite. “Thanks again for covering me tomorrow. I owe you one.” 

“No problem,” he tells her, and then the kitchen door opens. Ignis sticks his head out, looks around, and then frowns. 

“He left.” 

“Yep,” Iris nods, licking icing off of her lip.

“How foolish of me to leave him out of my sights.” He sighs. “Well, Prompto, would you like to try it?” 

He perks up immediately. “Yeah!” He nods. “That’d be awesome.” 

Ignis smiles at him, amused, and then stands back to hold the door open. “They’re ready, then.” He cocks his head towards the inside of the kitchen. “Go and try one.” 

Grinning, he strolls right in. He doesn’t feel bad for his excitement. 

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning, he forgets why he set his alarm. Blearily, he sits up in bed, wiping his eyes, and glances down at his phone, vibrating and lighting up from where it’s twisted in the sheets. The last remnants of his dreams fade away as he groans, untangling it from it’s confines and looking at the time. Seven AM. Way too early. He turns off the alarm and flops back down, ready to doze off again, when he freezes. That’s right. It’s Sunday. 

He flips out of the bed, quickly shedding his pajamas so that he can jump into the shower, and starts his morning ritual. He needs to be there for eight-thirty, Ignis told him. That gives him about an hour to get ready and eat breakfast. That...should be enough time, he thinks. 

And luckily, it is. He’s out the door by eight AM and jogging all the way to the station. He doesn’t have his camera with him, because he doesn’t think he’ll have any reason to use it, and he feels a little naked without it but it would have just been dead weight if had taken it. 

When he gets to the bakery, the door is already open. It’s not quite eight-thirty, but it’s close enough; he walks in, looking around, and finds Gladiolus behind the counter. He’s looking at something on his phone, but glances up when he notices Prompto’s arrived. “Good,” he says, and moves to the side when Prompto reaches the other side of the counter. “You know how to work a till?” 

Prompto laughs. “I worked at a grocery store as a teenager,” he tells him, and Gladiolus seems more than satisfied with that answer. 

“Great. Iggy and I’ll be in the back.” He nods his head towards the kitchen. 

“Kay,” he returns, and Gladiolus nods at him before disappearing. 

And then it’s just him. There’s one other person in the lobby, a customer looking at a newspaper and snacking on what looks like a muffin, and he thinks back to what Iris said yesterday - about it being a lot of standing around. Well, he can manage that, he thinks. No big deal. 

* * *

He’s bored. He’s so bored. He’s probably never been this bored in his life, and it’s only been two hours. Customers became a steady stream for a while, but then they slowed again. He keeps wondering about Noctis, too, because he said he would be here, but he hasn’t showed. Maybe it’s too early. Prompto knows that he likes to sleep in on the weekends. 

Since Gladiolus was on his phone, Prompto thinks maybe it’s okay for him to do so as well, so he takes it out and loads up King’s Knight. It passes the time for a while, but eventually he runs out of play points and he has to wait for them to recoup. So he waits, and waits, and waits, and wishes dearly that there was some kind of television in the room. He wonders how Iris does it. She seems like the type to get bored out of her mind if she has nothing to do. 

Ignis pops up to talk to him sometimes, probably in between baking sessions. Gladiolus shows up, too, and they both seem to have a lot to say. Prompto mostly listens, and answers or interjects only when he has something meaningful to put in; he asks about Noctis, and Ignis sighs deeply. Gladiolus explains his new friend’s awful habit of sleeping well into the afternoon when he has the ability to - usually because he stays up so late. They talk a little about the bakery, as well, and Prompto isn’t super great at reading people, usually he’s the one being read like a book, but even he can see the clear chemistry between the two. They practically finish each other’s sentences, touch often, look at each other with a look Prompto has never had directed at him but hopes to one day. Of course they have chemistry, he thinks to himself. They’re married. Married people usually love each other. 

Usually. He thinks of what Noctis said, about him and Luna. About how he’d be alright with marrying her, even though he doesn’t love her in a romantic sense. Though he also made a good point - that you shouldn’t be with someone just because you’re alright with being with them. You should be with someone because you want to be. It seems like Noctis would be comfortable with her, but comfortable doesn’t always equal happy. 

He wonders if Noctis has ever had that - someone that he was happy to be with, that he wanted to be with. He’s friendly, quick to warm up, extremely handsome, rich; people should be falling all over him, and chances are he would have fallen in love with one of them, right? 

Maybe not. He’s apparently single right now. There’s no one in his life that he wants to be with at the moment. 

It’s terrifying how that feels relevant, how that makes him feel in general. He barely  _ knows _ Noctis; they’re friends, he thinks, but that doesn’t mean they actually know anything about each other. Noctis can read him, sure, and Prompto has - admittedly - probably overshared about his life, but he doesn’t know a thing about Noctis other than the fact that he doesn’t want to be the heir to a business and that he likes to fish and doesn’t like lemon or beans or veggies. 

So friends. He’s cool with friends, totally chill with it. Why wouldn’t he be? It’s all he’s really been asking for. 

Then he realizes that Ignis and Gladiolus have been talking to him throughout that entire train of thought, and tries to fit back into it and use context clues to figure out where the hell they are in the conversation. 

The subject of his distractions shows up around one or so, with his hair a mess from the wind and a frown on his lips. Prompto immediately wishes it wasn’t there, and that there was something he could do to fix it. “What’s wrong?” He asks as Noctis approaches the counter, then leans heavily on it. It’s very dramatic, but Prompto can’t really find any humor in it since Noctis seems actually upset. 

Blue eyes look up at him, and then a sigh. “I’m just exhausted.” 

“You didn’t sleep great?” 

“No, I slept fine,” he returns. “There’s just a lot going on right now.” 

“With work,” he says, as more of a statement than a question. 

“Yeah,” Noctis says, exhaling deeply. He doesn’t say anything else on the matter, so Prompto doesn’t try to keep going with that line of conversation. He brings up something new. 

“You didn’t try the cake yesterday,” he says, smiling, poking Noctis in the arm. 

Noctis looks away, guilty. “I had things to do.” 

“Uh huh,” Prompto chuckles. “So you’re gonna try it today, then?” 

“It’s probably not gonna be any good since it’s not fresh.” 

It’s obviously an excuse. “Well, I tried it after you left,” he informs him. “It was really super good.” 

Noctis harrumphs. “Doubtful,” he murmurs. Then he pulls out his phone, checks the lock screen, and shoves it back in his pocket. “Why do games take so long to give you your stamina back?” He groans. 

Prompto laughs. “I have no idea. I play this game called King’s Knight and it takes for _ ever _ .”

Noctis’s head snaps in his direction. “No way!” He says, and his entire expression lights up. “I play that, too!” 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m totally addicted.” 

“Me, too,” Prompto laughs, nodding. “It’s a real problem.” 

“Well,” Noctis says, opening up his phone. “What’s your username? We’ll have to indulge our addiction together.” 

Prompto tries to hide his smile, but judging from the way Noctis looks at him, he thinks he fails. Noctis always seems so happy to see him happy; it's a good feeling. 

After they’ve exchanged user names and played a few rounds, Ignis shows up again. “Noct,” he says, and the blue-eyed man looks up at him. “I’ve made another sampling of the orange cake. Or has something else come up?” 

Prompto grins and playfully pushes him lightly. “Go try it. It’s really good.” 

“Ugh, fine,” Noctis groans. He pushes off of where he’d been relaxed against the counter and follows Ignis into the kitchen. “I’ll let you know if it kills me,” he says just before he disappears. 

He can’t help but laugh - it’s not quite a giggle, he’d never admit that - and turns back towards the seating area. It doesn’t take long before Noctis is walking back out again, looking like maybe the cake really did kill him. “That bad?” Prompto asks, in the most comforting tone he can manage. 

The look Noctis levels him with is borderline pathetic. “It was delicious,” he says sadly. Prompto cracks up laughing. 

* * *

The next time he talks to Noctis is actually before he even goes back to the bakery, and considering the terrible day he’d had at work - it’s definitely welcome. 

_ Just making sure you didn’t forget me again _ , the text reads.  _ Since it’s been a couple of days and all.  _

He has to bite his bottom lip to keep him from smiling too hard. The room is dark except for the light from his laptop and phone, and it’s very warm under his blanket, but suddenly he’s never felt more comfortable. 

_ You’ve been kicking my ass in King’s Knight, so no.  _

_ Glad you can own up to that.  _

_ Well it would be hard to deny, looking at our scoreboard.  _

_ Tru.  _

He doesn’t really know what to say after that, so he doesn’t say anything at all. He surfs the internet for a while, goes on social media, watches a movie, and just as he’s about to go to sleep for the night, he gets another text message. 

_ You gonna be there tomorrow?  _

_ I have to work late, but I can come by after. Why?  _

_ You’ll see. Just come whenever you have time.  _

_ Sure...well, I’m going to sleep...see you tomorrow.  _

_ Sleep well, Prom.  _

_ You, too, Noct.  _

He’s so sleepy that he doesn’t even feel embarrassed about the nickname. He figures if everyone else calls him that, Noctis won’t have a problem with him doing it, too. At least, he never gets any enraged text about it. If anything, he hopes it makes Noctis feel at least half as nice as Prompto does when he’s called by his own nickname. For some reason, seeing that final text from Noctis makes him smile more than he has all day. Just from those three little words. 

He falls asleep with his phone in his hand. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

He can't concentrate. He’s in the break room, picking at his lunch, and his mind keeps wandering back to Noctis, and why he wants Prompto at the bakery tonight. Does Iris have something to do and they need Prompto to cover? But then why not just say that?

He sighs and sets down his fork. He wishes he didn't have to be here the extra hour, but Vyv is in Lestallum right now doing some research for next month’s issue and Prompto has to cover some of his duties. Normally he wouldn't have to, wouldn't even be qualified to, but it has to do with ad placements so he supposes his visual arts degree is what motivated Vyv to ask him.

He’s about to get up and toss the remainder of his lunch in the trash when Dino walks in.

He doesn't dislike Dino, not really. He seems like a pretty okay guy, even if he’s less than motivated about his journalism work these days. And if the rumors are anything to go by, he can be a little shady about how he gets his info, but they’re rumors, and Prompto tries not to listen to them if he can help it. He likes giving people the benefit of the doubt.

At first they don't say anything, not even a greeting; Dino goes to the cabinet and pulls out a bowl before walking over to the fridge. He opens it, leans down to look inside of it, and then says, “Good work on those photographs for this month’s issue,” in his thick city accent. He grabs what he needs and then moves to set it down on the table. He grins at Prompto. “I could practically taste ‘em.”

“Thanks…” Prompto returns.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dino nods, and he takes a bite of...whatever he’s eating. Prompto can’t tell, and he honestly doesn’t feel like putting forth the effort to do so. “Those people’s real nice, too. Kinda cool they have that kid behind them and all that.”

This makes Prompto pay closer attention. “What? Which kid?”

“About your age - Noctis Lucis Caelum. Yeah, he, uh, he owns the place.”

Every time he’s heard the bakery referred to, they’ve always called it Ignis’s, so this is news to him. “It doesn’t belong to the patissier?”

“Nah,” Dino shakes his head and takes a sip of his soft drink. “It’s all in Noctis’s name. Dunno why you’re surprised. Kid could buy out every bakery in the city if he wanted to.”

Prompto figured he had money, but not _that_ kind of money. He wouldn’t exactly call Noctis humble, but he’s modest about his financial situation at the least. “Did you talk to him about it?”

“Tried to,” he says. “He’s kind of silent on that front. Didn’t wanna answer too many questions.”

“Well, the article was on the food, not the bakery.”

“Eh,” Dino shrugs. “That kind of thing sells.”

People always want to know about the rich and famous, for some reason. He moves to get up and leave. “Yeah,” is all he says in farewell. Dino doesn’t seem bothered in the least.

* * *

For some reason he feels...anxious? He thinks he’s anxious. He isn’t sure of why, though. He’s been here plenty of times, and they've always made him feel comfortable and welcome. But now? Noctis specifically asked him to come after work - he wants him here for something.

He opens the door to the bakery, _Noctis’s_ bakery, slowly, and then peeks his head inside. It all looks...normal. The same as it always does. He looks around as he steps inside; no one is at the counter, which is odd since there are a few customers about, but he figures Iris had to step away or something. With a small sigh, he makes his way towards the kitchen, opening the door in the same slow manner he did with the front door; it’s weird for the bakery to be so quiet. It feels unnatural.

The kitchen is empty, too, and now he’s just confused and concerned. No one at all is around? But it seems like there are ovens on, so they can’t have been gone too long. It smells good, too.

“Oh,” he hears, and he looks up to see the back door opening. It’s Ignis. “You’re here earlier than Noct expected.”

He didn’t really specify a time, so he guesses that’s pretty warranted. “Where is he?”

Ignis cocks his head towards the back door. “They’re back there getting ingredients.”

Prompto is a little confused. Did Noct want him here to try something new? It could make sense, he supposes - they have wanted him to try things before. “What are you making?”

Ignis smiles. “I’m not making anything.”

Prompto opens his mouth to ask what he means when the back door opens again. “I couldn’t find the vanilla beans. I never know where you keep things.” He turns to watch Noctis come into the kitchen carrying a rather impressive number of supplies. Blue eyes find him, and then Noct smiles. “Oh, you’re here.”

“I’m here,” he repeats, needlessly. “Are you making something?”

“Mmm,” Noctis hums, setting down the eggs and what looks like some magnificent kind of mixer onto the prep table. He doesn’t clarify. Prompto doesn’t like to pry, but he’s still confused.

“Did you call me here to try it?”

A nod. “Ignis doesn’t trust my opinion on things I make.”

“You tend to have bias,” Ignis cuts in. Noctis rolls his eyes, and then Gladiolus comes from the back.

“Found the vanilla beans,” he says, and he sets them next to the eggs. “Open your eyes next time,” he chastises lightly, softly smacking the back of Noctis’s head. Noct immediately starts to preen, fixing his hair to make sure it’s still holding correctly, and Prompto can’t help but laugh. Noctis looks up at him, huffs, and then shakes his head. Prompto sees him smile in shared amusement at the eggs.

“Thanks,” he tells Gladio dryly.

“No problem,” Gladio replies, and then walks over to Ignis. He leans down a little to whisper something to him, and then Ignis nods.

“There are some things we must take care of,” Ignis tells them. “We’ll be back soon.”

“What?” Both Prompto and Noctis ask at once. Noctis goes on. “Wait, you’re not going to stay and _help_? What about the customers?”

“Afraid not,” Ignis goes on. "And we'll close up shop while we're gone." 

“Yeah, got important stuff to do,” Gladiolus nods. “Hey, why don’t you get Prompto there to help?”

“Oh,” Prompto starts, shaking his head maybe a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m terrible at baking.”

“Surely you’re not that terrible. Noct will lead.”

“I will?” Noctis asks, putting his hands on his hips. “Where are you going anyway? You haven’t entrusted the kitchen to me in years.”

Prompto has a feeling they have nowhere to go at all, but he doesn’t get their angle. They really don’t understand how awful he is at anything culinary. “We have to go buy ingredients,” Ignis says simply, smoothly. “For a new menu item.”

Noctis doesn’t look convinced, and Prompto doesn’t blame him. As assuring as Ignis sounds, it still seems pretty fishy. “Whatever,” Noct says, sneering lightly. “Go buy your things. If the building burns down, it’s not our fault.”

“Of course not,” Ignis says, amused. “We’re off, then.”

“Uh, have fun,” Prompto says, waving a little. Gladio holds up a hand in goodbye and then they disappear into the lobby.

As soon as they’re gone, Noctis starts to grumble. “They’re not fooling me,” he says, voice low. “I don’t know what they’re up to, but I don’t like it.”

“I really have no idea of how to bake,” Prompto offers, because dwelling on that isn’t going to help. “Um, do you?”

Noctis looks up at him. “Yeah, of course. I practically live here.” He sighs. “But a lot of this equipment is high-tech, and I’m making something complicated.” He moves some things around, sets up the mixer, and then opens the carton of eggs. “Least he could do is wait to go shopping _after_ the eclairs are in the oven.”

“Oh,” Prompto starts, walking forward. “Eclairs?”

Noctis looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah,” he nods. “Eclairs. I wasn’t going to make these specifically, but…”

“But?”

“But Iris likes them…” He groans and plays with a piece of his fringe. “She requested them as a pity present for after her midterms are done.”

Prompto laughs softly. “I didn’t realize you had a soft spot like that.”

Noctis scoffs. “A soft spot or just not wanting to hear her gripe?”

“A soft spot,” Prompto answers with a smile. Noctis shakes his head, but smiles as well. “You’re a big softie.”

“Ugh,” Noctis returns, but Prompto can tell he’s joking. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?” He grins, but it’s obvious he’s trying to hide it.

“Scout’s honor,” Prompto promises. “But, uh, seriously, I’ll be no help.”

“You’ll be fine,” Noctis tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes are very comforting; Prompto thinks they’re probably the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. “We just follow the recipe.”

* * *

Everything's _not_ fine. Definitely not. Noctis stepped away for two damn seconds to go to the bathroom and...now? Now he’s covered in flour and egg whites and god knows what else. It’s not his fault, really, just that he turned the mixer on too high, and then when he tried to turn it to a lower speed he ended up knocking it over and it crashed to the ground. And now he’s absolutely covered.

He holds up both arms, grimacing, wondering where he went wrong in a past life to deserve being so clumsy, when the door shoots open.

“What fell?” Noctis asks, and then apparently notices Prompto covered head to toe in ingredients. He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, it seems. “Uh, you okay?”

Prompto feels like he might cry in frustration and embarrassment. He doesn’t, but he feels like he could if he really wanted to. “I’m fine,” he sighs, shaking his hands of slimy egg whites. “See, this always ends up happening. I hope I didn’t break the mixer.”

“I’m not worried about the mixer,” Noctis laughs, shaking his head and stepping forward. “Can always buy a new one.” He grabs a hand towel from the sink and calls Prompto over. Prompto takes little steps, grimacing at the gross feeling on him. He would wipe it away, but his hands would probably just make it worse. When he gets to the sink he stops, and Noctis turns on the water before wetting the towel and beginning to clean the ingredients off his face. “How did you even manage this?” He asks, still amused.

“Uh,” Prompto starts, and sputters to a stop as the towel makes it’s way softly across his jawline. It kind of tickles, but only because Noctis is using such a light touch. It makes his chest swell a little, that Noct is being so gentle. He probably shouldn’t be if he’s trying to clean up mess, though. “I just knocked the mixer over is all,” he explains.

“Tilt your head to the side,” Noctis tells him, and he does. Then shivers and giggles as the wet towel wipes at a spot just below his ear. “You’re so sensitive,” Noctis laughs. “It’s just a towel.”

Prompto can’t stop letting out little puffs of laughter every other second or so. “It tickles!"

Noctis rolls his eyes, but he looks fond. That makes his chest swell, too. He doesn’t think on it too much. “Well, I think it’s all gone from your face,” he says, stepping away. He tosses the towel into the sink. “Your clothes are another story, though.”

Prompto groans, then moves to wash his hands. The soap smells like oranges, which is nice. “You’ll have to separate the eggs again,” he says. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

Noctis waves a hand in dismissal. “It’s really fine,” he laughs, and he immediately gets to work on doing that. “See, now if Ignis hadn’t left, this wouldn’t be an issue. Your clothes wouldn’t have become victim.”

He can’t help but laugh softly. “Those ingredients better be important.”

“It’s probably just like...sugar…”

“Well sugar is pretty important.”

“Yeah, when you don’t have a slew of five pound bags in the back.” Noctis shakes his head. “No, they’re up to something…”

“Maybe this was their plan all along,” Prompto jokes. “Maybe they wanted us to fail.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Well they’re not vindictive,” he explains, although he must catch on that it’s a joke because he’s smiling. “But I will let them know that you weren’t lying about being terrible at baking.”

“Please do,” Prompto says, drooping. “Or else they might have me do it again.”

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Noct grins.

* * *

The rest of the baking goes by without much incident, mainly because Prompto stays far away in the lobby, keeping an eye on things there, and Noctis finishes it up alone. He knows when it’s done though, because he hears an excited ‘yes!’ from the kitchen. He perks up, excited, and spins on his heel and pushes through the door.

He doesn’t know if he’s seen Noctis smiling like this yet. Usually they’re soft smiles or smirks or confident grins - not...not this child-like joy. It makes _him_ smile broadly, even as his heartrate goes into overdrive. “They came out good, then?”

Noctis nods fervently. “Perfect!” He picks one up and holds it out towards Prompto. “Try it!”

Even if he hated eclairs, which he doesn’t, he would have gently taken it from Noctis’s warm hands. That smile could make anyone do anything; he takes it, slowly brings it to his mouth, and then takes a bite.

The first thing he notices is how _good_ it tastes. He can't even focus on the individual ingredients because it's the best eclair he thinks he’s ever had. After the first bite, and the initial foodgasm, he takes another - but savors this one. Every part of it comes together so uniquely, but at the same time the ingredients are all easily recognizable. The chocolate is the most noticeable, a semi-sweet dark that has him craving it as soon as it's gone; after that is the filling, a nice vanilla that follows the chocolate all too nicely.

“You’re too good at this,” Prompto says, once he’s finished his second bite. “Why aren't _you_ a pastry chef?”

“What?” Noctis asks, clearly pleased. He waves a hand in front of his face. “It’s good, but it's not that good.”

It's weird to see him humble and modest, but it's kind of cute, too. “No, seriously. I don't think Ignis could make it better!”

“Now you’re just lying,” Noctis laughs. “No one makes better desserts than Ignis.”

“I thought that, too,” Prompto says, grinning wryly. “But then I tried this eclair.” He holds it up. “Do you have any more? I’d like to take some pictures!”

“What for?”

Prompto taps his chin. “Well, we’re supposed to be coming up with a new idea for magazine issues and stuff. Maybe one on amateur bakers? We could feature you!”

“No thanks,” Noctis says, suddenly turning away, towards his eclairs. “I've been featured in enough magazines.”

“Oh…” Well that's true. And Noctis has mentioned before that he’s not super fond of that kind of attention.

He notices Noctis look over his shoulder, then sigh. “Well...I guess if it was _your_ magazine it would be okay. If you did the article.”

He blinks rapidly, unsure if he heard him correctly. “Wait, really?!” He doesn’t know if he could to the whole thing, but it would still be cool.

“Yeah, I mean…if it's not gonna be about business or money.” He groans and plates one of his eclairs. “I'm tired of talking about that. Desserts, though.” He turns to Prompto and holds out his plate with a smile. “Those I can live with."

Prompto smiles too, because he can't help it, because he always seems to be smiling around Noct. “That’s...that’s great!” He laughs and pulls his camera out of his bag. “Wow, Vyv’ll love this!”

“Your boss?”

Prompto nods, switching some settings on his camera before holding it up and looking at the eclair through the viewfinder. “Yep,” he says. “He’s a good guy. Very enthusiastic.” He leans back, moves to another angle, then takes a few more pictures. “Easy to please.”

“Or maybe you’re just that good,” Noctis says, almost haughty, as if _he’s_ the one boasting. That pleases him. Like, that Noct sees him in that light, that he’s proud, bragging about his friend. He can't tell, though, because his chest is restricting so tight that he could also dying. Up in the air, really.

“I don't think it's just me,” Prompto returns, smiling shyly. Noctis looks at him almost a moment too long before smiling himself and focusing on his eclairs again.

“Think Ignis’ll put ‘em out if I make more?”

“To sell? Why wouldn't he?”

Noctis shrugs. “He’s picky. Not that I blame him. He’s got a reputation to uphold and everything.”

Prompto makes a soft noise. “These will uphold it,” he murmurs, picking his camera back up.

“Thanks, man…”

Prompto is about to say something else, but then he hears voices. “...Can’t believe you left the kitchen to them, Gladdy.” The door to the lobby opens and Iris walks in. She takes one look at Prompto and turns to Gladiolus and Ignis, who enter behind her. “See? Look at poor Prompto! What did those horrendous leopard pants ever do to deserve that?”

“...Horrendous?” Prompto asks. He looks at Noctis, who shrugs. He looks back down at his pants.

“I’m just saying,” Iris goes on, waving a hand. “You could have come back to ashes rather than…” she sniffs the air. “What did you make, Noct?”

He sniffs in offense. “Nothing for you.”

She swerves around Prompto, and her eyes widen when they land on the eclairs. She pushes Noctis playfully, although with enough force for him to have to hold onto the prep table to keep from falling, and picks one of the pastries up. “Noct! They look perfect! Look at the glaze, Iggy!” She spins on her heel and holds it out in his direction.

Ignis looks it over and then hums. “Baked to perfection,” he nods. “The chocolate seems lovely, Noct.”

Prompto looks over at him to see Noctis completely turned away. It looks like his arms are crossed. “Of course they are,” he says, but Prompto can hear the smile in his voice.

“Aw, he’s shy,” Iris says, and then she takes a bite. With a soft moan, her eyes slip closed. “Okay, seriously, I take it back. Leave them here more often.”

“It was all Noct,” Prompto says, holding up his hands. “I just made a mess.”

“No, no,” Iris laughs. “You’re support. Or, no, a muse!”

“A muse?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she nods, licking her lips and then taking another bite. Once she swallows she elaborates. “You know. Inspiration.”

“Noctis said that yo-” Prompto starts. Noctis spins on his heel and gives Prompto A Look. Evidently he is not supposed to confess that. “That...he was inspired by. Um. My magazine.”

“Oh?” Ignis asks, smiling.

“Don’t remember him talking about that,” Gladiolus goes on, a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah,” Noctis says, and he throws an arm around Prompto’s shoulders. This close, he can smell Noct’s cologne - citrusy? It’s nice. “He was talking about featuring me in an article.”

Prompto nods, although the closeness is not something he’s used to. People don’t tend to hang all over him. He can’t decide how he feels about it yet, so he doesn’t do anything about it at all. “It’s okay, Prom,” Iris says as she finishes off her eclair. “You don’t have to lie for him, I know he made them for me.” She bolts forward and wraps her arms around Noctis, which forces him to let Prompto go. “Thank you,” she says, and she does sound very grateful. She rubs her face into his chest, and he rolls his eyes but rubs her back with a smile. “So I can have all of these, then?” She asks as she pulls away, pointing to the remaining three.

“I’d like to try one,” Ignis says, stepping forward.

“Here,” she says, plating one and sliding it down the prep table. “You and Gladdy can split this one.”

“...My thanks,” he says, amused.

  
He’s starting to really feel like a part of all this. He’s starting to really love these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Prom, but those pants are bad. And sorry this update took so long - shit went down in my personal life. Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

“Stick to pictures,” Vyv says, standing by his desk. “You’re good at what you do - we’ll get Dino to write the article.” 

He was afraid of this. When he brought up the idea to feature amatuer bakers to Vyv, he seemed very excited about it. Prompto wasn’t shocked by that, and he isn’t, frankly, by this. Still, he would really rather Dino not write it. He can’t exactly ask for someone else to do it - that would seem odd, and Vyv likes Dino. And now he can’t exactly take back the idea. Vyv likes it, so it’s gonna happen. Maybe he can sit in the interview at least and knock Dino back on track if he strays into financial territory. Like running interference. That’ll give him some control, at least, to protect Noct. 

“Right,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

He’s kind of stuck, but he’s going to do what he can with it.

* * *

He sighs as he walks into the bakery. He’s going to have to warn Noctis at least; maybe he won’t even want to be in the article now. Prompto wouldn’t blame him at all. Iris is there, unsurprisingly, leaning against the counter and munching on a muffin. Her eyes light up when she sees him. “Prom!” She bounds from behind the counter and jogs to right up in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Is Noct here?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope, why? Is it date day?” 

He flushes and blinks wildly. “What?” He asks weakly. 

“I’m joking,” she says, grinning. “But it’s cute when you’re flustered. You’re the same age as Noct, right? When you blush you look about my age.” A laugh. “I’ll have to snap a shot of it sometime so he can make it his phone background.” 

His face warms further. “Why would he?” 

“I already told you,” she tells him, arms behind her back. “You’re cute. Who wouldn’t?” 

He hugs his camera bag to him tighter, as if it’ll somehow save him from the mortification. “I don’t think there are too many grown men who like being called cute.” 

“I don’t know,” she chuckles, and turns around. “You look pretty pleased. But nah, he’s not here. Nothing new to try, either. Oh! He told me you play King’s Knight, though! Let’s partner up!” She pushes herself up to sit on the counter and pulls her phone out, kicking her legs playfully. “If you have a minute, that is.” 

“Yeah,” he nods, still a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I have time.” 

“Cool,” she grins. “Don’t hold me back, alright?” 

“I could say the same.” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen you cocky yet. That’s usually reserved for the too-cool emo kid whose hip you’re attached to now,” she jokes. “How many sides you got to you, Prom?” 

He pulls his phone out. “As many as anyone, I guess.” 

She laughs. “Fair point.”

* * *

He goes back again the next day, and Noctis still isn’t there. They play King’s Knight some more. Gladio joins in this time. 

Later that night, he decides it’s probably best to just text him and ask when he’ll be back. It takes Noctis some time to reply, but his chest feels a little lighter when his phone lights up with a response. 

_ Friday afternoon. I’ve just had some things to take care of.  _

**_Busy lately?_ **

_ Yeah, just work stuff. Meetings and shit.  _

Prompto smiles - he doesn’t know why he’s so amused, but he is.  **_And shit?_ **

_ Yeah, man. Lots of it. You know how it goes.  _

He definitely does.  _ **Is that why your tree’s died?** _

_ My tree?  _

_ Oh, in the game… _

**_Yeah, the game haha_ **

**_Unless you do landscaping on the side, too_ **

_ Like I’d have the time. Hold on, I’ll revive it. You harvested lately?  _

**_Yeah, this morning._ **

_ Damn, mine’s totally dead. I’ll have to plant a new one.  _

**_No saving it?_ **

_ Nah _

_ It’s chill, I have enough saplings  _

**_How’d you get extra???_ **

_ Sidequest _

**_Which?_ **

_ Uh, I think the one with the witch? By the ocean.  _

**_...The ocean’s pretty big Noct_ **

_ I’ll show you on Friday  _

He realizes how widely he’s smiling and pauses. He touches fingers to his lips, then sits up a little straighter. He’s never smiled like this because of...words before. Because of text messages. It’s so weird. But it’s not just any words, he guesses - it’s Noctis’s words. His friend. Of course friends smile while they text, they make each other happy. 

He wonders if he makes Noctis smile this much, at least in secret. He hopes so.

* * *

Friday can’t come soon enough. It’s always the days when he knows he’s going to see Noctis that he’s the most excited. He focuses on reining in the smile on his face as he enters the bakery and sees the familiar black hair of his friend. He must be exhausted, considering his head is down on his arms, as if he were playing some children’s game or taking a nap. He actually could be sleeping, Prompto realizes, since he’s the only one in here besides Talcott, who stands by the register. He gets a silent wave from the boy, and he smiles in return. 

Softly, he walks up to Noctis, then pulls a chair out as quietly as he can. He’s only sitting for a moment before Noct wearily drags his head up with a groan. “What?” He asks, but once he sees that it’s Prompto he gives a lazy smile and rests his chin on his palm. “Oh, hey, Prom.” 

“Sorry I interrupted your nap,” he says, moving to place his camera bag on the table in front of him. Noctis drags it towards him and uses it as a pillow; Prompto can only huff in amusement.

“‘S fine,” he mumbles, and then yawns. “I feel like I haven’t slept in a decade.” 

“I don’t think my camera is very comfortable but you’re welcome to it,” he offers. 

“I already have it,” Noctis points out, and Prompto can’t see his mouth, but he can still hear the grin. “I plan on keeping it.” He yawns again. 

“Please don’t, I need that for work.” And general happiness. 

“I haven’t seen you take pictures in a while,” his friend says, and his voice is deep and rough and very attractive. Prompto attempts to not make note of this. He fails .

“I’ve been...distracted, I guess.” 

He really hasn’t been taking as many pictures recently, and that _ is _ odd. He hasn’t thought about it too much. He’s either with the people here, or playing King’s Knight with the people here, or texting the people here. 

He might have a little bit of a one-track mind. But it helps that before this he never really experienced this kind of thing. It’s new to him, is all. 

“It’s weird,” Noct tells him. “I feel like…” He inhales and exhales, but it’s not quite a yawn. “You’re not you without your pictures.” 

Prompto wants to reply that of course he is, that he’ll always be Prompto, but maybe Noctis is onto something in a way. Honestly,  _ he _ doesn’t feel like himself without his camera, so why should he seem like himself to other people without it? 

“Well,” Prompto says with a soft sigh. “I guess not. But, uh, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

Noctis looks up at that, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” He looks...pretty concerned. 

“My boss really liked my idea, for the article on amateur bakers.” 

“That’s a...good thing, though?” 

“Yeah, except…” Prompto plays with a piece of his hair. “He wants Dino to write the article. The same guy that interviewed you before.” 

“Oh,” Noctis says, and he straightens his back and looks away. “I see.” 

“You don’t have to be in it...if you don’t want to.” 

“Do you want me to?” His friend asks, curious. 

“I...only if you do. I just…” 

“If it makes you happy, I’ll do it,” he says simply, although his face is pretty impassive. He stretches his arms above his head. “I mean it’s just an article in a baking magazine, and I don’t have to say anything that I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah,” Prompto says, softly. “But…!” 

“Nah,” Noctis shakes his head. “It’s no big deal.”

“He’s gonna ask, Noct. I know he is, but...I can be there, too. And when he asks anything not relevant, then I can redirect the conversation back to the topic.” 

Noctis smiles at him now - it’s sweet and soft and unlike him, but it still makes Prompto’s heart go into overdrive. “See? I didn’t even have to worry.” 

He sputters, then fidgets. “I...guess not.” He feels like a twelve year old, honestly. 

He hears Noctis opening the camera bag, and he settles down a bit. “What…?”

“Oh, man,” Noct grins as he takes out the camera. “I was hoping to get a picture of you all flustered.” 

This is exactly what Iris was talking about… “I’m not cute,” he says, too quickly and too shakily to be taken seriously, he’s sure. 

“You haven’t been looking in mirrors, then,” Noctis says, and he snaps a picture. He lowers the camera and laughs. “You’re pouting.” 

“I...I am not!” He says, but he thinks he definitely is. He grabs the camera back from Noctis and holds it up to look through the viewfinder. “Besides,” he says. “If anyone is good looking, it’s  _ you _ .” He takes a picture just as Noctis’s expression changes. It looks a little like happy surprise.

* * *

“You know,” Noctis starts, a while later. By this point, the sun is setting, and dusk is beautiful in Insomnia. “I know I mentioned this before, but...the only people that have ever been around me have been there because of where I come from. Ignis, Gladio and Iris - they’re more guardians than anything else. For a while, Ignis was my chauffeur, and then Gladio was a kind of bodyguard. Then I got older and the need for that waned a little. But still, they’re here because of my dad in the long run.” He sighs, plays with his fringe. “And then anyone who wanted to be my friend or...more than that, they,” he scoffs and shakes his head, bringing his hand down. It curls into a loose fist. “They always ended up just wanting notoriety or money.” His blue eyes are bright and the black of his hair is illuminated orange by the filtered light of the setting sun. “You’re different, though.” He purses his lips. “I don’t see why. I’ve never understood it.” 

It’s a sad thought, that Noctis genuinely thinks people are only around him because they either have to be, or they want something from him. “And I don’t understand why someone like you would ever want to be friends with someone like me.” 

“Come on, like I’d ever make time for any old loser,” his friend jokes, rolling his eyes. “The little time I have left is reserved for…” he trails off. 

“For King’s Knight,” Prompto jokes. 

“Exactly,” Noctis laughs. “As evidenced by my dead zell tree.” 

He laughs too, then settles down. “But, um, Noct, you’re -” he sighs. “More than your money or your father, you do know that, right?” 

“I guess,” his friend says, but it doesn’t sound convincing. “Growing up it was...hard to rationalize that.” 

“I get it,” he says. And he kind of does, in a way. Except that he still has a hard time rationalizing his worth. If there’s anything to rationalize in the first place. 

“Thanks, Prom.” 

“...For…?” 

Noctis leans across the table to flick his forehead. “You’re so oblivious, you know that?” 

“I’ve been told,” he murmurs, rubbing the now red spot on his face. 

“Well you’re hearing it again,” Noct says. “And again and again until you aren’t oblivious anymore.” 

“Why don’t you just  _ tell _ me what I’m being oblivious about?” 

“Well now,” Noctis grins, tapping a finger on the table. “That would ruin the surprise.” 

Prompto is about to respond when a plate is gently set in front of him. He looks up to see Ignis there, sporting his apron. “Complements of the chef,” he says. “You’ve been here a long time. You must be hungry.” 

“I sure am,” Noctis says, hastily, and goes to pull the plate towards him. Ignis slides it out of his reach. 

“It’s for Prompto. If you’d like one, you can get one."

“Rude.” 

“Thank you, Ignis,” Prompto smiles, and he looks down at the chocolate dessert. It seems like some kind of fudge. “It looks awesome!” 

Noctis’s chair makes a squeaking noise against the floor as he pushes away from the table. “I  _ will _ get my own, then,” he grumbles. He stands and sulks as he walks towards the counter; when he gets there he squats in front of it, presumably to decide what he wants. In his place, Ignis sits, prim and regal. 

“How is he?” 

Prompto looks at Ignis, then back at his friend. Noctis is saying something to Talcott. “Tired, I think. Overworked, probably.”

Ignis sighs. “Noctis complains until something serious is going on. He used to get these terrible migraines, and we would only know if he showed it physically. Occasionally he’d mention it, but it wasn’t often.” 

“What was wrong?”

“Stress,” Ignis says, voice low. “When he gets like this, we all get worried.” He watches as Noctis picks at a croissant. Those blue eyes are trained on them, as if he knows he’s being talked about. “It’s a red flag, when he stops showing up. He hasn’t been here since last weekend.” 

Coming here is a way to destress, Prompto guesses. He understands that. There’s something about the environment that makes people feel welcome, at home, as if everything’s okay. But now he’s worried, too - more than before. He doesn’t want Noct getting sick because of that. “Uh, a second?” He asks Ignis, and the patissier nods. 

He stands, leaving his camera on the table since no one is here except for Ignis, Noctis, Talcott, and himself. Noctis’s eyes track him as he moves, making him a little self-conscious, but he’s determined. When he gets close, Noctis cocks his head to the side. “Done shit-talking me?” He jokes. 

“Let’s do something this weekend."

This must throw Noctis a little off guard. “What?” 

“Let’s do something. Something - something fun. To get your mind off of work and everything.” 

“I really just wanna sleep all weekend,” the dark haired man laughs. “What did you have in mind?”

He thinks on this - he really should have come up with an idea before he walked over here. He seems to recall one of Noct’s interests, though. “How about...fishing?” 

This makes him perk up. “You...wanna go fishing?” 

No, not at all, but… “It’s a good way to relax, right? And it...could be fun.” 

Noctis looks amused. He smiles, making Prompto’s heart skip a beat or two - he duly notes that that particular ailment is happening more and more often - and nods with a chuckle. “I know a great spot not too far away. Best pickings are at dawn, but,” he grimaces. “I need sleep. So, how about tomorrow night at dusk?” 

“Yeah,” Prompto nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Cool,” Noctis grins, and he looks happier than he has since Prompto walked in. “I haven’t been in a while. I miss it.” 

Honestly, it probably won’t be too bad. At least they’ll get some quality time together - fishing is a lot of sitting around, isn’t it? He can do that. He’s good at sitting around, even if sometimes his excess energy gets the best of him. Besides, it’ll make Noct happy. Disregarding the fact that Noctis is going through with the article to make Prompto to happy, they’re friends, and friends do that right? Go out of their way to make the other happy? Seems like a friend thing to do.

* * *

_ I’m here _ , is all the text says. He grabs his keys, the bag he packed at Noct’s insistence, his camera, and bolts out of his apartment; it’s a warm, damp evening, so he’s dressed light. 

When he gets out of the complex, he looks around. The only car is a sleek black convertible, with the headlights on and music coming from the speakers. There’s just enough light for him to make out Noctis’s features, and he reigns in his shock. Of course he has a car like that. It must be the Regalia they always talk about. 

He situates the bag on his shoulder and jogs to the car, opens the door, and slides into the passenger seat. He can’t tell what the music is, but Noct lowers it as he sets his bag on the floor of the Regalia. “You brought snacks?” He asks.

Prompto nods. “Of course. You told me to.” 

Noctis smirks. “Good. This can take a while sometimes.” 

That doesn’t bode well, but the ride is enjoyable. He’s never been in a convertible, and the wind on his cheeks is amazing. Sure, it might mess up his hair a little, but it’s so worth it. 

He’s driven to the edge of the city, by the bridge, and then they’re going down a path he’s never recognized. They finally stop by the river, on the other side of the levees, and then Noctis is turning off the car and getting out, going to the trunk and pulling out his supplies. Prompto follows suit, climbing out and putting his bag on his shoulder. The trunk slams shut, making him flinch a little - it’s such a beautiful car - and Noctis smiles at him apologetically before nodding to his right. There’s a little dock that goes about twenty feet across the water, and Noctis sets up shop at the end of it. 

“I’d like to go to Galdin Quay, since it’s on the sea and there’s bigger saltwater fish, but this’ll do for now.” 

Prompto doesn’t know a thing about fishing. Not a thing. But he listens to Noct talk anyway. 

“My reel is getting a little old, honestly, but it was given to me, so it’s hard to part with it.” He opens his tackle box and goes through it until he finds the - lure? - he wants and attaches it to the line. It looks strong, the line, probably durable, but that’s not shocking. Noctis probably has the best of the best, minus the heirloom reel.

It’s getting darker by the second, with the sun setting and all that, and Prompto finds himself watching the skyline rather than the set up for fishing, what he can see of the skyline at least. This low, there’s only the river, but it feeds into the sea, so he can see all of the colors of the sunset reflected in the water. It’s really beautiful. “What got you into fishing? Was it your dad?” That’s the way it usually goes, isn’t it? 

“He doesn’t fish, as far as I know,” Noctis says, chuckling softly. “Not sure when he’d have the time. He’s busier than I am.” He casts the line out, lets it sit for a moment, reels a little, waits a bit longer, scoffs, reels, and appears to give up and reels the lure back. “But, uh, no. Wasn’t him. I actually saw a fishing rodeo on the television, and - I don’t know, it seemed cool.” He recasts the line and looks back at Prompto with a grin. “It is.” 

Fishing has never seemed cool to Prompto, but if anything, he does think Noct is. Sometimes he tries a little hard, but for the most part his general air: the way he stands, his smile, his everything - it makes Prompto a little jealous and a little intrigued all at once. He finds himself drawn to Noctis, wanting to be next to him for longer and longer, and it scares him a little. At first it was nice, but it’s getting to be…

Dangerous, probably. 

He knows the more invested he gets, the harder it’ll hit him if anything happened. Now that he has Noctis, now that they’re friends, it would hurt more than anything to lose that. Well, maybe not more than  _ anything _ , but it’d be damn close. 

He moves to sit on the edge of the pier, taking off his shoes and rolling up his pants to put his feet in the water, and Noct gives him an amused look before reeling a little, pulling the lure back, then casting once more. This time, it doesn’t take long at all for him to get a bite. “Whoa,” Prompto breathes. The line is dragged under the water due to the weight of the fish, and he watches as Noctis expertly moves the rod back and forth with the movements of it. He seems like he’s struggling a little, but he keeps his cool, brow furrowed in concentration as he pulls, reels, releases. 

It takes at least five minutes for him to reel the thing in, probably because he’s so meticulous, and when it gets close he has to set the rod up to pick the fish up with both hands. It looks heavy. “What is it?” Prompto asks. 

“A bass,” Noctis returns, heaving the fish to his ice chest. “But it’s a big one.” 

“That’s awesome, man,” he says, standing up and walking to the fish. It’s movements slow in the ice. “Is it...hurting?”

Noct looks back at him. “The ice slows it’s heartrate, but it’s about as humane as you can get.” 

“It can’t breathe out the water, though…” 

Noctis looks from the fish, to the water. “Do you want me to put it back?” He’s asking the question genuinely. 

“What?” Prompto asks. “That seems...I mean, you worked hard.” 

Noctis shrugs, goes back to the ice chest, removes the fish, and gently sets it back in the water. It apparently wasn’t out of the water long enough to damage it too much, because it bolts away as soon as it can. “Don’t want you having any moral dilemmas,” he grins. 

Noctis is considerate - no matter what anyone else says about him, he’s considerate. Making those eclairs for Iris, doing the article for Prompto, putting the fish back in the water for him, a million other things he’s done. He’s...a good person. He really is. 

Prompto’s mouth goes a little dry and he finds his spot from before, dipping his toes in the water and trying to keep his mind off of Noctis’s compassion, his smile, his hands, his everything. It’s hard to do when they’re sitting right next to each other and he’s watching the way Noctis moves. It would be hard to do even if they were a thousand miles apart. 

He sighs. 

Dangerous. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking of adding the moogle-chocobo carnival to the story, but I'm still working out how I would. If anyone has any suggestions or anything they'd like to see, let me know. If I use your idea, I'll definitely credit you in the note at the end :)


	6. Chapter 6

It’s nearly midnight before Noctis stops. Prompto is right on the edge of sleep, sprawled out on the pier with his bag under his head, and he blearily looks up when he hears the tackle box snap shut. “You’re done?” Prompto asks, sounding as groggy as he feels.

Noctis looks over at him. “Yeah,” he nods. “You pretty much passed out, so I figured we should get you into a bed.” He grins. “Bet the wooden dock isn’t too comfortable.” 

“It’s not,” Prompto admits, heaving himself up. “Sorry, though.” 

“It’s fine,” Noctis waves him off and gathers his things up. He walks them back to the car as Prompto grabs his bag and follows. “Your snoring didn’t scare the fish.” 

“Snoring?” He asks, mortified.

Noctis laughs. He pops the trunk of the regalia and sets his tackle box and ice chest in before laying the rod on top. “Don’t worry about it, man. You’re chill.” 

He doesn’t think it is chill, personally, but he lets it go; he’s embarrassed, but Noct is sliding into the driver’s seat and he would really rather not be left behind. He gets in, buckles his seatbelt, and leans his head against the rest behind him, looking up at the night sky. No stars, really, not with Insomnia’s light pollution. He’d like to go out to the country and see it some time, he thinks, but he’s really a city-dweller - he doesn’t know if he would do so well in the outdoors. Probably not. 

“You gonna fall asleep again?” Noctis asks, over the wind. They’re moving slow right now, but it’s still a force against the car. 

“At some point eventually, yeah.” 

“Well, obvi - ugh,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I mean right this second. Are you gonna fall asleep  _ right now _ ?” 

“Nah,” Prompto laughs, shaking his head. He’s groggy, but he’s not on the precipice of sleep now, not after that. His anxiety could keep him up for years, he thinks. He has it under control most of the time, though. “Why?” 

“I’m hungry,” Noct tells him, looking right and left as he comes to an intersection and then pulling through. The Regalia’s engine is a low hum, powerful but subtle. He’s no mechanic, but it still interests him somewhat. It’s a beautiful vehicle. “I was gonna stop at a twenty-four hour diner.” 

“I’m down,” he says, as he yawns. 

Noctis shoots him an amused look. “You sure about that?” 

“Yeah!” He nods, once he’s done with his yawn. “Sounds fun. I’ve never been to a diner in the middle of the night.” 

That earns him a little chuckle. “I know just the place, then.”

* * *

It’s brightly lit, more so than any restaurant really has the right to be, but he supposes that it would help attract patrons when it’s late like this. Insomnia is bright as it is, truly a city that doesn’t ever seem to really sleep, so it’s entirely likely that businesses think they’ll stand out if they do this. Still, he would have taken Noctis as the kind of guy who’d want to go somewhere more lowkey. Judging by his facial expression, Prompto may not be wrong. 

“It’s changed,” Noctis says with a grimace, leaning against the Regalia. His arms are crossed and he’s looking over at Prompto rather than the diner. “It’s...loud, now.” 

Prompto understands - it’s not loud in terms of sound, but in terms of appearance. The visuals are...jarring. “Do you...wanna go somewhere else?” 

Noctis seems to consider this. Then he shakes his head. “Let’s check it out at least,” he says, pushing off of the convertible. “I wanna see if they still make their fries the same way.” 

Prompto nods, following close behind, trying to take in the lights and colors without getting a headache, and holds his camera close to him. There was no way he was leaving it in the car, honestly, and if the interior has as much personality as the exterior, he’ll probably want a picture or two anyway. 

Noctis gets inside first, then holds the door open for him. He murmurs a thank you and looks from left to right once he’s inside. The inside is...relatively normal. Looks like a diner rather than a dinner theater. Noctis breathes a sigh of relief from behind him. “Let’s get a table,” he says, putting a hand on Prompto’s arm to guide him. 

Due to the fact that he’s had a severe lack of it in his life, any type of physical contact with Noctis makes him a little edgy. Not in a bad way, per se - but he hyper-focuses on it, fixates on the sensation, all the way until it ends. And it does end after a moment, once they reach the booth Noct wants to sit at. At first he’s shocked at how much he misses it, but then he’s not. He  _ likes  _ physical contact, even if he’s not used to it, even if it makes him anxious. Maybe because he wants to get over that, because he’d like to be able to touch people and not freak out over it. 

Especially Noctis. 

Noct doesn’t seem to be very physical with other people, besides a high five or the occasional fist bump or something, but Prompto notices there are a ton of casual touches between them. Unnecessary ones. He didn’t  _ need _ to guide Prompto, he could have very well followed, but he did. 

“You okay?” He hears, and then realizes he had totally spaced out. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, playing it off and rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a little tired still.” 

Noctis frowns. “Do you want me to drive you home?” 

“What? No, we just got here.” Prompto waves him off. “Besides, I need to try those fries you were talking about.” 

Now he gets an amused huff. “If you say so,” Noct says, shaking his head and plucking a menu from the holder at the end of the booth and opening it. “It’s been so long since I’ve been here.” 

“Yeah?” Prompto asks, taking a menu as well. 

“Mmm,” he assents. “Years. I came with my dad when I was a teenager. I’m actually a little surprised I remembered how to get here.” 

Now is as good a time as any to quell some curiosity. “You never talk about him, really. What’s he like?” 

Noctis smiles down at his menu. “He’s a good man. A little pushy about duties and all that, but he’s just doing what he thinks is best. We hit rough patches from time to time, but...I love him.” 

Prompto focuses on his menu so that he doesn’t have to focus on the jealousy. “That’s good,” he nods. “I was worried he was working you a little too hard.” 

Noctis snorts. “He is, probably. He tends to. But like I said…” he shrugs. Prompto can just see him over the top of the menu. “Does what he thinks is best.” 

“For you, or for the company?” He realizes as soon as he’s said it that it’s presumptuous, that it could offend Noctis, but his friend doesn’t look put out in the slightest. 

“Both,” Noct offers simply. “I mean, the company employs a lot of people - gotta make sure they’re taken care of, too.” 

Prompto didn’t think of that - he was really just thinking of Noctis. “That...makes sense.” 

He hums. Then redirects the conversation. “Tell me about your job,” Noctis returns, nonchalantly, eyes still raking over his menu. This is all very casual, but something about it makes Prompto feel...happy. They’re taking interest in each other’s lives. How cool. “Well, more about it, I guess.” 

Finding what he wants, Prompto closes the menu and sets it down. He taps a finger against the table. “I’ve been working there a while now - the people are actually all really nice. I like my boss a lot, he’s really forgiving about stuff, and is great for the ego.” He cocks his head to the side as he thinks. “Great benefits,” he jokes. 

“Is your dental hella?” Noctis asks with a grin, still not looking at Prompto. 

“My dental is beyond hella. Covers all my cleanings. I have good teeth.” 

“Always important,” Noct grins, and now they meet eyes. “You ready to order?” 

He nods. “Yeah, you?” 

A laugh. “I was ready when I walked in.” 

By the time the food arrives, a BLT for Prompto (Noctis cringes at the L and the T, but snatches a stray piece of bacon off of his plate) with those famous fries, and a plain burger with a side of fries for Noctis, Prompto is finally kind of awake. The lights of the diner combined with good conversation has him slowly rousing. His eyes don’t drag down with every blink and he doesn’t feel as sluggish; he thinks that this is really the most fun he’s had in a long time. He finds that things like that happen a lot around Noctis. 

“So, go on!” Noctis says, excited, gesturing to Prompto’s fries. “Try them!” 

Prompto gives him an amused smile, but does as his friend says. It feels crispy, which is nice, and when he takes a bite he can’t help but grin. He chews thoughtfully as Noct sits on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, looking curious and impatient, and he draws it out as long as he possibly can before swallowing and humming. “I mean, I would maybe put them in my top ten,” he jokes, but Noctis just looks wholly horrified. “I’m joking, man. They’re great!”

Noctis gives a sigh of relief. “Thought we would have to stop being friends for a moment there.” 

Prompto laughs, because he’s aware that Noct isn’t serious, and he gets a smile in return. Noctis has such a nice smile - Prompto wishes he would do it more. 

They finish eating and pay the bill, and then get up to leave. Prompto isn’t looking forward to having to get up, really, but he pushes through the desire to curl up in the booth and slides out. It’s not exactly chilly outside of the diner, even as late as it is, but he does have the strong desire to be all cozy and rolled up in a blanket in bed. He’s about to say as much, to ask Noctis to take him home, when the man says, “How about you just spend the night at my place? I have an extra bedroom, and it means that I don’t have to drive you all the way back to your apartment at two in the morning.” He laughs, and Prompto knows that, if he asked, Noctis  _ would _ take him back to his own apartment, but there’s something warm about the idea of spending the night at Noct’s place. 

“I’ve never had a sleepover,” he admits with a smile. 

“I’m honored, then,” Noctis says with a slight bow, and he jogs in front of Prompto to hold the door to the car open for him. He laughs shyly, feeling even more warm, and slides in. 

“What a gentleman,” Prompto says, feeling sleepy, but happy. 

Noct just looks over at him and grins, then puts the car in reverse and backs out of his spot. 

The drive back to Noctis’s apartment is relatively quiet, and he’s fairly certain that he falls asleep at a couple of points, only to be woken up again by a bump or the sounds of Insomnia’s nightlife. The car is comfortable, and the wind lovely against his skin, and he could probably get a good night’s rest in the Regalia if he really wanted to. As it is, however, Noctis is all too soon pulling into a parking garage and going up, up, up the spiral way, until he reaches a floor that requires keycard entry. Once the bar lifts and the Regalia pulls through, Noctis easily finds a parking spot and kills the engine.

They just sit there for a moment - Prompto is far too lazy and comfortable to want to move without prompting, and Noctis is busy staring at the steering wheel for some reason. “What’s up, man?” 

Noctis looks over at him, and even in the dim garage light, Prompto can see the blue of his eyes. “Do you….remember anything new? Anything...about me?” 

This wakes him up a little, makes him sit straighter. He feels immediately guilty, too, because the answer is a resounding no. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, shaking his head. “I wish I did.” 

“It’s fine,” Noctis says, but Prompto thinks it isn’t. 

“What is it you want me to remember?” 

Noctis opens his mouth, then closes it. After a moment, he goes on, “There was an accident. It was... a bad one. I was just wondering if you remembered.” 

“Was it in the papers?” 

“Oh yeah,” Noct laughs, sardonically. There’s no humor in his voice at all. “All over every media outlet. The papers, the news…” 

“What happened?” 

A deep sigh. “Let’s get inside.” 

Classic redirection, but Prompto can’t fault him. Maybe he wants to talk about it somewhere a little more private anyway. 

Once they’re inside the building, he notices how close they’re walking, and wonders just when he started taking note of such a thing. It’s small, inconsequential - they’re not touching, really, but Noctis is still close. Closer than he needs to be. 

It makes him ache a little. They’re friends, but...he wonders when that’ll stop being good enough for him. It might be selfish, in fact it definitely is, but he can’t help it. Prompto’s mind is starting to be totally filled by Noctis. It’s only a matter of time before he slips up.

When they get to the elevator, Noct presses the call button and steps inside once the doors open. He slides the keycard once more, then presses the P at the top of the buttons. 

Suddenly he’s a little nervous. This is the first time he’s seeing Noctis’s apartment. A penthouse apartment, no less. He feels small and insignificant and unworthy, but at the same time Noctis offered. Noctis wants him over, wants him to see where he lives. He tries to hold on to that so that he doesn’t feel too bad about imposing. 

The elevator doors open onto the floor, and there’s one lone door to the left. Noctis takes out a set of keys, unlocks it, and then pushes it open. “Home sweet home,” he says, sounding tired. 

Honestly it’s too dark to see much at first. Then Noctis flips on the overhead light and everything is  _ too _ bright and Prompto has to shield his eyes. There’s the sounds of movement, and when his eyes finally adjust and he can lower his hand, he takes a look around the room he’s in. 

The first adjective that comes to him is probably the most obvious - big. It’s big and spacious, but very, very lived in. Messy, almost. Prompto isn’t sure of why he’s surprised, really, but he kind of is. Noctis seems like the kind of person who would have their life together. Then again, that doesn’t necessarily equate to cleanliness. Besides, if he’s always as busy as he says he is, then maybe he just doesn’t have the time to clean up after himself. 

Shouldn’t someone with as much money has him have a maid or something, though? 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Noctis says, and Prompto turns to him. He’s shrugging off his light jacket. “Uh, let me show you your room, I guess.” 

He hasn’t had enough time to take in the living area, all the modern white and black, the huge television and giant floor to ceiling windows, but he follows Noctis down the hall anyway. He’s quiet, because he really doesn’t know what to say and he’s sure that whatever he  _ would  _ say would come off as stupid, but Noctis doesn’t say anything either. When they get to the end of the hall, he pushes open a black door and gestures towards the inside. 

“Whoa,” is all Prompto can really verbalize at first. This room is probably about as big as his living room, which is damn near depressing, and there’s a huge king bed smack in the middle of it, covered in black linens. All in all, it’s very modern, very nice, very expensive looking. He thinks he’d like to stay in this room forever. 

Noctis laughs softly. “There’s a bathroom right…” He leans into the room to point to a door on the left wall. “There. The shower is a little complicated, so if you want to use it come let me know so I can show you how to work it.” Prompto nods mutely, still taking in the room. There’s a potted plant as tall as he is in the corner by the windows. He can’t see out of them because the curtains are drawn shut, but he’s sure it’s a spectacular view. 

Noctis is about to walk out, literally turning around, but Prompto stops him by grabbing his hand. “Wait,” he says, and Noct freezes. Their palms are warm where they’re pressed together, and Prompto can’t bring it in him to let go yet. Noctis doesn’t pull away. “You were...saying something about an accident.” 

For a moment, the grip on his hand tightens. It’s just a little, very softly, but it does. Then Noctis slips his hand out of Prompto’s grip. For a long moment, they’re both quiet. “I...a long time ago something happened,” he says, and his voice is low and soft. He isn’t looking directly at Prompto. “And the anniversary of it is coming up, so…” he shrugs. “I was just thinking about it again.” 

It’s obvious he doesn’t really want to talk about it. “I’m sorry,” Prompto apologizes. 

“Don’t be,” Noct returns, finally meeting his eyes and smiling a little. “Shit happens.” He definitely understands that. Sometimes...a lot of shit happens. “Get some rest, Prom.” He brings his hand up to ruffle Promtpo’s hair, and he’s so stunned that he doesn’t even swat him away. Fingertips linger near his ear, and then draw away, and Prompto is left with a stuttering heartbeat. “See you in the morning.” 

“Y...yeah,” he returns, eyebrows drawing together as Noctis turns away and disappears. 

He shuts the door before walking over to his bed and setting his camera down on it. Fishing his phone out of his back pocket as he rubs his ear against his shoulder to make the tingling disappear, he taps out Noctis’s name into the search bar. He honestly should have done this weeks ago - he doesn’t know why he didn’t. Privacy, maybe, but now he’s too curious. 

There’s more than one page about him - from articles about his business, his stocks, anything and everything financial to personal information. He doesn’t have to get very far down the page about his early life before he’s falling onto the bed with a mournful, almost pathetic sound. 

He realizes that Noctis has never talked about his mom. Just his dad. 

In three days, it’ll be the twentieth anniversary of her death. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long - life shit again. But I did push this one out! 
> 
> Obviously the timeline is a little different in this AU, since his mother died when he was an infant in canon, but also his dad died when he was twenty in canon, so this obviously diverges. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

He wakes up from what he thinks was a good dream. He can’t really remember it too well, but he feels pleasant, if not a little groggy. Wiping his eyes, he sits up and looks around - early morning light filters through the blinds, making strips of white appear on the floor, and he yawns before sliding out of the bed and stretching. 

It’s always weird waking up in someone else’s house the first time. Not that he really has much experience with that, but he thinks it’s probably like that for everyone. It’s disorienting, to say the least. 

He pads over to the bathroom and realizes belatedly that he has no toothbrush; this poses a problem considering how dry and gross his mouth feels, so he immediately begins to rummage through the drawers. It’s the guest bedroom, so it’s not really intruding, right? He finds an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste to the left of the sink, along with a small travel kit that holds a few other things he might need. He sighs in relief before turning on the water and looking into the mirror. His hair is a mess, no surprise. The gel in it that he uses to spike it up hardened and made it look like a nest overnight with all of his rolling around. There’s a little comb, so he wets it and tries to style his hair back before giving up and combing it down. It falls against his cheek lamely and he huffs before swiping it out of his face and brushing his teeth. 

Once he’s sure he looks halfway presentable, he backs out of the bathroom, pockets his phone, and makes his way for the hallway.  The apartment is quiet, save the soft noises of the air conditioning, so he tiptoes his way towards the living room - the only other room he saw last night. It seems like a pretty safe space, somewhere where he won’t be getting into things he shouldn’t. On the way, however, he passes an open door; presumably it leads to Noct’s bedroom, considering the soft snoring he hears. He doesn’t want to invade his friend’s privacy, but since the door is open he supposes it does no harm to look inside as long as he doesn’t enter. 

It’s very dark. He can’t make out most of it because of the blackout curtains Noctis has over every window in the room. He can see a huge king bed in the middle of it, though, and a lump that looks, for the most part, like it could belong to a dead animal with how still it is. 

He definitely doesn’t want to wake Noctis, so he softly turns around and continues his way towards the living room. Once there, he takes a look around, since he couldn’t really last night. 

It’s spacious, but lived-in. There’s stuff everywhere, as if Noctis just bought things and then couldn’t decide where he wanted them to go, and something about that is...it’s heartening. He doesn’t know why, but he kind of likes that the place has personality. 

Still, he won’t snoop, so he sits down at the dining room table, which overlooks the city, and pulls his phone out. 

It’s probably a little backwards of him to not want to even chance looking at Noct’s personal belongings when he’s been glued to his phone since they parted. He’s learned a lot - things he feels a little odd knowing, things he feels guilty knowing, things he’s glad he knows. The last one is an all-encompassing thing. Even if he feels guilty, even if it’s odd, he’s still happy that he knows. Although he kind of wishes he could have heard it from Noctis. He wonders if his friend’ll be mad that he went behind his back and searched his name on the internet. 

He still doesn’t know what to do with the information about his mother. He really thinks he should wait for Noctis to bring it up, especially considering it’s so sensitive, but at the same time he’s afraid the day will come and go and Noct won’t say anything at all. That he’ll hold it all in. But Prompto wants to be there for him, he wants to connect. He wants to tell Noct that he gets it, that he understand what it feels like to lose someone you love. 

The grip on his phone tightens a little and he closes his eyes. He can just barely remember his mother. He was so young when she left. He never knew his father, but his mom? He remembers nothing but smiles with her. Nothing but happiness. He wishes he knew why she had to leave, why he had to get stuck with people who didn’t want him. Isn’t it funny? That the people who chose him, the people who adopted him - they still didn’t want anything to do with him in the end. They have a separate life now, with a new baby. Hopefully they’ll actually be there for it. 

Maybe Noct will open up to him if Prompto opens up first. If he actually tells him something substantial instead of things on the surface, things that don’t really matter. It’s hard, though. It’s hard to talk about insecurities, about loneliness, about fear. It’s hard to even think about it most of the time. But if it’ll help Noct, then he’ll do it. It feels like a small price to pay in comparison. 

He lays his head down on his arms and looks out of the window. It’s still pretty early, but the city is bustling. There are so many cars, so many people. So many different lives, so many different stories. He wonders if they’re all as complicated as his and Noct’s, or if the two of them just got the short end of the stick. 

He must’ve dozed off again, because next thing he knows his eyes are blinking open to the feel of a hand in his hair. “Wake up, sleepy head. What are you even doing out here?” 

Prompto sits up, blearily looking behind him; Noctis is standing there, hand slipping from his hair with an amused look on his face. “What time is it?” 

“Close to ten,” he returns, raising an eyebrow. “Got somewhere to be?” 

“What? No, I just…” he frowns and shakes his head. “No, I was just curious. Sorry - I got up about two hours ago but I must have fallen back asleep out here.” 

Noctis nods and turns around, walking towards the kitchen. Prompto takes note of all the very expensive equipment. “Hungry?” 

He pauses. It’s not something he really needs to think about, but he wasn’t paying any attention to that. “Not particularly.” He yawns. “I never am when I first wake up.” 

Noct hums and opens his fridge. He bends down to look into it and grabs something before going on. “Thirsty then?” He asks, lifting the orange juice above the door. He stands to his full height and gives Prompto a smirk.  

Prompto smiles and stands. “Yeah,” he nods, but internally he thinks it’s too early to be on the receiving end of Noct’s confident expressions. They look way too nice on him. If he’s sleepy he’ll be even more affected than usual. 

“I was thinking that, since you indulged me last night, we could do something you wanted today,” Noctis says, setting the juice down on the countertop and reaching for a cabinet above the sink. Prompto’s eyes flick to where his shirt lifts, and then he groans. It’s  _ too early _ for this. His groan elicits a confused look. “Something wrong?” 

“What?” He asks, and realizes that maybe he sounded a little more sharp than confused. “Ugh, sorry, I’m just - I’m not great with mornings.” Which isn’t even that much of a lie, really, but he’s usually not  _ this _ bad with them. He felt fine when he woke up the first time, so he doesn’t know why he’s so off now. “Um, but yeah, that sounds fun.” He steps into the kitchen and leans his hip against the counter. 

Noctis looks away from him after a moment, apparently satisfied with the apology, and then pours a glass for each of them. “Anything in mind?” 

He wipes his eyes, then takes the glass from Noct. He sips the juice before shrugging. “Not...really? Uh, maybe...I don’t know, like...fuck, um…”  Noctis laughs suddenly, which startles him. “Uh?"

“Sorry,” Noct says, waving him off. “I just. Almost spit out my juice. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse, really.

Prompto squints at him, then flushes. “Oh, uh, my bad. I don’t, really. Not. Often. I just. It’s early.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Noctis tells him, still chuckling. “It’s not like you’re gonna offend me or anything. It was pretty cute, actually.”

He’s never heard of cursing sounding cute, but it affects him all the same. He flushes further, then lightly pushes Noctis. “Shut up. I didn’t mean to.” 

“Fuck, really?” His friend is smiling wildly - he looks really delighted. “Shit, that’s a fuckin’ shame.” 

Prompto can’t help it - he laughs too. He’s not sure why it’s so funny, but it is. “You have a weird thing for bad language, Noct?” 

Noctis purses his lips, trying to hide his smile. “All kinds of bad language, yeah.” 

He nearly chokes, but he plays it off by laughing. Good lord. He’s not gonna be able to stay at Noctis’s place if he does this as part of his morning ritual. “Guess I should get used to that, then.” 

“Hell yeah,” he grins. Then he downs the rest of his juice and places his glass in the sink. He walks back into the living room and Prompto follows behind, glass in hand; he’s very careful not to let any get on the pristine white carpeting. Even if the area is a little cluttered, there’s no stains or anything. “Well,” Noctis says, plopping down on his couch. “How about we check out IMMA? You like...art right?” 

He chuckles and sits down softly on the couch next to his friend before setting his juice down on the side table. “I’ve dabbled.” 

Noctis kicks his foot lightly. “I mean, like, not photography art.” 

“I know what you mean,” Prompto assures him. “Yeah, I like all kinds of visual art. Going to the museum sounds fun. What time are they open on Sundays?” 

“Around lunch, I think.” Noctis sinks into the cushions, looking very comfortable, and pulls his phone out. “We can get something eat before we go.” He taps a few things on the device and hums. “Or there’s a cafe in the museum.” 

Without thinking, he says, “You’re a very thoughtful date.” 

Noctis pauses, and then grins at his phone. “I do my best.” 

He laughs a little, busying himself with his phone so that he appears more casual than he feels. Honestly, though, the teasing is kind of fun in a weird way. Maybe he should let himself do it more often. Noct seems to respond well enough to it. 

Maybe he thinks too hard on things. He just needs to relax.

* * *

Insomnia’s Museum of Modern Art is...big. He doesn’t have a lot of similar art museums to compare it to, but still - it’s big. It’ll take the entire time the place is open to get through it. With that in mind, he eats quickly. Quicker than Noctis, at least, who is eating at a very casual pace, splitting his attention between his plain cheeseburger, his phone, and outside. 

“Hey, uh, Noct?” His friend looks over at him. “It’s only open until four today. And it’s, uh, twelve-thirty.” 

Noctis swallows his bite and nods. “My bad,” he returns. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands. “I’m done anyway.” 

Prompto looks at his plate of food. “You’ve still got half the burger.” 

“Not that hungry,” he shrugs. 

His eyebrows furrow at that, because it’s the first meal either of them have eaten today, but it’d be weird to push it, so he lets it go. Noctis slaps his back playfully as he grabs his bag, and then they’re off to the counter to get admission tickets. 

Prompto is starting to learn to just - let Noctis pay for certain things. He knows his friend is going to argue if he tries to pay, and Noct is, well, wealthy. He still feels bad, but there’s something kind of nice about someone wanting to spoil you. So he lets it go when Noctis buys both of their tickets and before handing one to Prompto and falling into pace next to him. 

They’re quiet for a long time; Noctis stays relatively close to him, looking at whatever he’s admiring, and he doesn’t really mind. Maybe art is to Noctis what fishing is to Prompto. Still, he doesn’t complain, and he at least looks interested enough in some of the things. When Prompto finds his favorite statuette, one of Shiva, Noctis listens very closely to what he says. 

“I’ve never been a very big fan of statues or sculptures or ceramics, but…” he trails off, leaning closer. “This is beautiful to me. I look for it every time I come. I’m always afraid they’re gonna take it down,” he chuckles, taking in the details. “It’s...just amazing. I can’t imagine the kind of crafting it took to create the folds in the fabric, or the detail on her hands. She’s so beautiful that it makes you fall a little bit in love, you know?” He glances over at Noctis, but his friend isn’t looking at the statuette. He’s looking at Prompto. 

“Hmmm,” he hums in agreement, and they meet eyes for what feels like a very long time, but probably only lasts for a couple of seconds, and when Noctis looks away, he surveys the statuette. Prompto swallows past his dry mouth. “It’s very old,” he murmurs. “It’s cool how it’s, you know, stood up to time and all that.” 

Prompto laughs, and his entire body feels warm. Pleasant, albeit strange. “They’re made to last, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Noctis nods; he looks at Prompto once more, and then turns away, towards a painting hanging on the wall to the left of them. “Big Bang,” he says, looking at the object label. 

This one has been here for a while, too. Prompto makes a habit to check for Shiva, and then for this painting. It’s huge, a mural almost, showcasing the astrals, the creation of the universe, Eos. It’s something someone can look at for hours and still find new things. Little details, in the curving Leviathan, the ice cold Shiva and burning hot Ifrit. It tells a story, more in depth than the tales that everyone hears as children. 

Noctis points to the woman on Leviathan’s back. “I’ve never seen Leviathan in her human form.” 

Prompto looks at the woman and smiles. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? The gods and goddesses in their human forms are stunning.” 

Noctis grins. “You mean you don’t find Titan attractive as an astral?” 

“I’m more of a Ramuh kind of guy,” he jokes back. 

His friend laughs. “This borders on sacrilege. Maybe we should stop before we get smote.” 

“Good call,” Prompto smiles. 

Noctis wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him to the next room. “What’s this one?” He asks, nodding at the very first painting they happen upon. 

“I don’t know all of them,” he says, wryly. He grins. “But I know this one.” Noctis’s arm lowers. “It’s a dock in Altissia at dusk. See the gondolas? It’s the tell.” 

Noctis leans forward, squinting at the painting. “I wonder if the fishing there is any good.” 

Prompto laughs. “You’ve never been?” 

“Never had the time,” his friend shrugs, and then moves to the next painting. 

From there on, Noctis seems more involved. He asks about anything he finds, and often Prompto has to defer to the object label and the internet. He really doesn’t know everything, only the select ones he really likes. A lot of the ones of faraway places, places he wants to travel to and photograph; those he’s memorized down to the tiniest details. 

The current featured exhibit is on fashion, which isn’t something Prompto really finds much interest in, but Noctis seems drawn to it for some reason. “You like fashion illustration, Noct?” 

Noctis turns to him and blinks. “It’s Vivienne Westwood.” 

“I...may have heard of her?” 

“She’s from Altissia.” He moves to look at one of the designs on the wall next to him. Something in his expression is...bittersweet. “You remember I said that Luna and I were just friends?” 

“Luna’s the one that Iris was teasing you about a while ago?” 

“Yeah,” he nods. “Well,” he sighs. “We are. Just friends, I mean, but. I don’t know, when we were younger everyone always joked around. I guess that’s what got it into my dad’s head in the first place. Everyone thought we’d grow up to be married. But she lives so far away and I haven’t seen her in years, and...I’ve never really felt that for her.” He looks away from the illustrations. “But she always told me that she’d want her wedding dress designed by Vivienne Westwood.” 

“You miss her,” Prompto says. 

“Of course,” Noctis laughs, but it’s sad. “She was my best friend. My...only friend, really. We were so young.” He moves to sit on a bench and stares at the ceiling. “I guess part of me has always kind of wished that I had feelings for her. But it would be too hard. We’re too far apart, and we’d never have time to see each other. Letters and phone calls and photographs don’t really…” He looks at Prompto. “You know?” 

“I get it,” Prompto nods, moving to sit next to him. “I don’t think I could be happy with someone who lived in another country. I would always miss them.” 

“I already do,” Noctis admits. “But I think it would be worse if we were in a relationship.” He pauses. “Besides, I’d barely have the time for a relationship even if it were with someone here.” Prompto wants to point out that Noctis spends a good amount of time with him, either physically or texting, but he doesn’t. Noctis kind of does it for him. “Like I’d give up the time with all of you guys.” 

“Yeah, but if you were in love…?” 

Noctis looks at the illustrations on the wall again. “Love is hard,” he says. “If I had the choice, I think I’d rather do without it.” 

“You don’t think loving someone is a choice?” 

“I think it can be, sometimes, for some people. But other times…” he shrugs, glances at Prompto. “Sometimes you really don’t have the option.” 

Prompto hums in agreement. Attraction certainly isn’t a choice, at least for him. He’s found that out the hard way. “I guess that really would limit your options for a relationship, then,” he jokes. “If you don’t want to give up your time at the bakery.” 

Noctis grins at him. “What are my options then?” 

Prompto is not answering that. “It’s getting close to closing time,” he says hastily, and he stands. “We should get going.” 

For a moment, Noctis frowns, then he nods and the expression falls away. “Sounds good. I think there’s only a couple more rooms anyway.” Standing, he bumps shoulders with Prompto. “Nice subject change there,” he says, and then he smirks and turns to leave the room. 

Prompto runs after him. He’s not really offended, though; he couldn't possibly find it in him with his heart pounding the way it is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey come talk to me about Promptis or FFXV on my tumblr: alteanengines. I really love talking to people about it and unfortunately I don't really have too many friends that are into it haha so yeah, come befriend me if you like :)


	8. Chapter 8

The bakery is a welcome distraction from the workday. It smells of strongly of gingerbread, which is a little surprising, and he waves to Talcott before tentatively pushing open the door to the kitchen. 

There’s no Noct, which he tells himself is fine, but Ignis and Gladio are there, standing close and whispering something to each other. It seems like a very intimate moment he’s intruding on, so he’s about to spin on his heel and leave the room when Ignis calls to him. “No need to leave,” he says, and Prompto gives him a shy smile. The two of them smile back, although Gladio’s is closer to a smirk. 

“Sorry,” he says, stepping closer. He notices their fingers slip away from each other, and wonders vaguely what they were discussing. It’s none of his business though. “I just...got off of work, and…” 

“It’s fine,” Gladio says, and Ignis runs fingers gently against his husband’s arm then walks towards the prep table. “Iggy was just getting ready to finish up.” 

“Indeed,” Ignis nods, pulling on a pair of oven mitts before slowly strolling back towards the ovens. He’s so graceful and dignified - most patissiers Prompto’s met have been off-the-wall types, but Ignis is practical and refined, and maybe that’s what makes his desserts so special. It makes them different, almost like elegance summed up in a pastry. 

He opens the oven and pulls out the tray, and on it are what look like two dozen cookies. He brings the tray over and sets it down on the cooling rack before taking off his oven mitts and crossing his arms. “Noct,” he starts, and then pauses. “Didn’t show up to work today.” 

“I’m not surprised,” Gladio grumbles. 

“Nor am I,” Ignis sighs. “Regis called and-” 

The door to the kitchen swings open. “Talcott said Prom was here,” Iris calls, and then perks up when her eyes land on Prompto. “Ah! There you are! I missed you!” 

He flushes a little and rubs his arms. “Did you?” 

“Yeah,” she nods. “What are you doing here? Did you come here for Noct?” 

“I just...came to visit.” 

“Liar,” she grins, but then the expression falls. “He’s never here on the eighth.” 

“Because...of his mother’s death?” 

“He told you?” She asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“No.” Prompto shakes his head. “No, I saw it online.” 

“Oh,” she returns. “Well, yeah, his mom died when he was five, right?” She looks at Ignis, and so does Prompto. The patissier nods. “Did he go to work today?” Ignis continues to stay silent and shakes his head no. “Of course not,” she sighs. “Noct wouldn’t ask for help if he was drowning.” 

Ignis said something similar a couple of days ago. “What should we do?” 

“Visit him,” Ignis says, a little imploring. This is beyond surprising to him.

“What? Wouldn’t it be better if one of you went?” He returns, shyly. He doesn’t know how comfortable he feels with that, because he isn’t sure he’ll be of any help. He’s never consoled someone before, and he doesn’t have the slightest clue of how to do it. 

“Probably...not,” Iris tells him, leaning against the prep table. “He’s kind of...I think it’ll be easier for him to relax with someone who isn’t…” she tilts her head to the side, frowning. “Sorry, but...not as close.” 

He shakes his head. “I understand,” he murmurs, even if he kind of doesn’t. He gets the fact that he and Noct aren’t that close, that they’re new friends and not family like these people at the bakery are, but he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to be a better companion than Iris or Gladio. “Do you think...he’d even let me in?” 

“He will,” Gladio pipes up; he has a hand around Ignis’s waist. They’re close together again, and Prompto notes that this is becoming more and more usual for them - or maybe he’s just noticing it more now. He wonders why. “He’ll let you in.” 

Part of him doesn’t want to do this - not because he doesn’t care about Noct, but because he’s so terrified of messing things up and making it worse. There’s also the tiny piece of him that’s scared of confronting someone in a situation like this; he’s not used to being put in front of a distraught person. Though he has no idea how Noctis actually emotes when it comes to things like this, because he hasn’t seen it. These people know, so how could he be of any damn use? 

“Alright,” he says after a moment, nodding. He doesn’t think there’s any way to change their minds, and he really doesn’t want to leave Noctis alone. 

“You know where he lives?” Gladio asks. “Or do we need to drive you?”

“I...know where it is.” 

“Alright,” Ignis says, and his voice is low. “Good luck…” 

“Thanks…” he murmurs, and then he’s turning around and leaving the kitchen. Before the door shuts, he hears Iris asking about the cookies.

* * *

When he gets to the complex the concierge outside gives him a strange look, perhaps because he doesn’t recognize him, but he doesn’t say anything as Prompto pushes through the revolving doors and walks into the luxuries lobby. This place is all new to him, since they entered and exited the complex from the garage on Sunday, but he doesn’t busy himself with looking around. He strolls right up to the elevators, trying to look like he belongs, presses the call button, and enters when it arrives. The doors close, and he looks for the correct button. He pushes it. Nothing happens. It doesn’t light up, and the elevator doesn’t move. He pushes it again. Nothing. 

He’s ready to just leave and ask the front desk when the doors open again, and a very tall man with red hair saunters in. He’s dressed richly, like everyone else in the building, but he gives off such a slimy aura than Prompto finds himself backing up. 

“Hello,” the man says, dragging out the syllables unnecessarily. “Are you in a bit of trouble?” 

By now, Prompto feels the cool metal bar pressed against the small of his back, and realizes that he is visibly inching away from the mysterious, strange man. “I, uh, I need to get to the penthouse.” 

“Oh?” The man swipes a keycard, and Prompto suddenly remembers that Noctis had one as well. “You’ll have to ask the front desk, I’m afraid. Is Noctis a friend of yours?” 

“You...know him?” 

“Oh,” he says, nonchalantly. “We go way back.” He nods towards the front desk, and Prompto scurries around him and out of the elevator. “Hopefully you can help him get over his poor mummy,” is the last thing he hears before the doors shut. 

He swallows, spins on his heel, and walks up to the desk. There’s a woman there with long blonde hair, and she looks up at him as he approaches. “Can I help you?” She asks. 

He doesn’t even know where to begin. “Uh, my, uh, friend lives in the penthouse suite. Is there anyway to get up there?” 

She gives him a skeptical look. “Name?”    


“Noctis Lucis Caelum.” 

“ _ Your _ name, Sir. I know who Mister Noctis is.” 

“Oh,” he returns shyly, flushing a little. “Prompto.” 

She nods and picks up a phone, punches in a few digits, and holds it up to her ear. For a moment, they just stare at each other silently, and then she puts the phone down. “No answer,” she tells him. 

“Could you...try again?”

She looks at him for a moment before repeating the process. It looks like she’s about to set down the phone again when she pauses. “Oh,” she says. “Mist-yes, Noctis. There’s someone here to see you….no it’s not Mister Scientia....No - no, it’s...yes, sir.” She holds the phone away from her ear. “He doesn’t wish to see anyone.” 

“Could you...just tell him my name?” 

This is a last ditch attempt. If Noctis doesn’t want to see him, then Prompto will just leave and hope he’s okay all the while. “Sir, it’s...there’s a Prompto here...yes…” she pauses and looks him down. “Blond hair, freckles - yes, okay. Alright. I’ll send him up.” 

Prompto lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The receptionist sets down the phone before unlocking a cabinet and pulling out a card. “Here, this will take you to the Penthouse.” He gently takes it from her and slides it into his back pocket before muttering a thanks and walking over to the elevator again. This time, no creepy men show up, and when the doors open on the top floor, he takes a deep breath. His heart is going into overdrive for some reason. 

He walks up to Noctis’s front door and holds his fist up to knock, but stops. Noctis is clearly okay with seeing him, but Prompto still feels so weird about it. He feels out of place, like he doesn’t belong. But he cares about Noctis, so he knocks after a moment anyway. 

“The door’s unlocked,” he hears from inside, and even if the sound is muffled, he can still tell it’s Noctis. He can also tell how tired he sounds. It’s not that late, though. 

He steps inside, not altogether that surprised to find all of the lights off. “Hey,” he mutters, shutting the door behind him and walking up to the sofa. Noctis is laying down on it with his hand over his eyes. 

“Hey,” Noctis mumbles back. “Was it Ignis or Iris that put you up to this?” 

“They kind of...all did.” 

“Of course they did,” he says, and then he sits up and gestures for Prompto to take a seat beside him. “I’m fine, you know.” 

“Are you?” Prompto asks. “Most people don’t sit around in the dark quietly.” 

“It’s relaxing,” Noctis fires back, although it’s weak. “I just...I’ve been busy with work, and I’m  _ tired _ .”

“Yeah,” Prompto whispers, sitting down. “I can’t even imagine.” 

Noctis falls a little to the side, towards Prompto, and before Prompto can move or say anything, the dark haired man is resting against his shoulder. Noctis lets out a deep sigh. “I wish…” 

“W-what?” 

“I wish I could just...run away sometimes. You know, like...a road trip. Like Iris and I mentioned a while back. It’d be so nice.” 

“Yeah,” Prompto breathes, getting somewhat used to Noctis’s new proximity. “You would deserve it, that’s for sure.”\

“You think?” 

“Yeah, I really do…”

“Thanks…”

For a moment they just sit there, with Prompto unable to maintain a healthy heartbeat and Noct’s uneven breaths. It's not comfortable at all, and yet…he doesn’t think he feels that bad. Not as bad as he thought he might. Being there for someone is nice, even if a little awkward. 

“Prom?” 

“...Yeah?”

“Why’d you come? I mean, really. You didn’t have to.” 

“Well...we’re friends…” 

“...True. Yeah, we are.”

“Do you want to talk about it? About-” 

“No.”    


“Alright…Do you wanna just...sit here then?” 

Noctis seems to relax further, body warm and heavy against Prompto’s. “Let’s do that.” 

He thinks he’s a little happy, that Noctis is so close to him. He can smell his shampoo, can hear his breath - there’s another human being attached to him right now, and it’s not terrible. It’s the opposite. He thinks he always knew that he craved physical contact in some way, but it was never really put to the test. He knows now what he’d been missing out on. 

Or maybe it’s just that it’s Noctis. Maybe it’s just that it’s him. 

They sit like that for so long, in the dark living room, that Prompto starts to fall asleep. He thinks Noctis has already passed out, but then his friend speaks up again. 

“Hey,” he starts, and his voice is deep, throaty - Prompto nearly shivers. He thinks he gets goosebumps. 

“Yeah?” 

“Let’s go to dinner when I have the time again.” 

“Alright,” Prompto nods. “Where at?” 

Noctis pauses. “You wanna go?” 

“We eat together all the time, why wouldn’t I?” 

“No, I mean…” Noctis sighs. “I mean let me  _ take _ you to dinner.” Prompto doesn’t say anything, because while he doesn’t understand all social cues, he thinks he understands that one. Or it could just be wishful thinking. Regardless, he doesn’t want to sound stupid, so he stays silent. “What do you say?” 

“Like...like a…” 

“Yeah,” Noctis says, and Prompto thinks he’s somehow closer than before. He can feel tufts of hair tickling his jaw. “Like a date.” 

He swallows. “Um,” he starts. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“No, no, I...want to. I do. Yes, yeah, yeah, let’s…let’s do that. Let’s...let’s go to dinner.” 

A breathy laugh, and then, “Okay. I’ll let you know when.” 

“Alright…Do you want me to stay?” 

“Yeah,” Noctis nods. “Don’t leave.” 

There’s something almost vulnerable and imploring about Noctis’s words, and Prompto doesn’t think he could deny him even if he wanted to. And he really doesn’t want to. 

After that, everything is quiet for a long time. He hears the sounds outside of the two of them, but they don’t register. There is only Noctis - every sense filled up by him except for taste. He wonders if that will ever change. He thinks he’d like to know the way Noct tastes. He wants to know everything. 

Noctis falls asleep against him, and Prompto does the same, his cheek resting against that black hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well damn, I'm sorry this took so long to come out and then it's so fuckin' short, but chapter 9 should come out faster than this one did. Thanks for being patient! By the way, I have a couple of people interested, but I wanted to take a vote - should I have a chapter from Noct's perspective? I'm leaning towards it right now, but I want to hear your opinions.


End file.
